


The Reason Is You

by Rearviewdreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Apologetic Harry, Bearding, Bottom Louis, Break Up, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Falling In Love, Famous Harry, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt Louis, M/M, Non-Famous Louis, Reconciliation, Singer Harry, Summer Tour, Tour Fic, Touring, closeting, random song references, roadie Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 06:14:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9535349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rearviewdreamer/pseuds/Rearviewdreamer
Summary: Louis is running out of time to find a summer job. His best friend offers him one that promises early mornings, late nights, long hours, and the best people he'll ever meet. Lucky for Louis, one of those people is Harry Styles.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LouisGirl93](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouisGirl93/gifts).



> 'A fic based on The Reason by Hoobastank with like an ending that's determined by the reader. Hurt!Louis Apologetic!Harry Insecure!Louis Asshole!Harry Bottom!Louis please?'

Louis digs around in his wallet with hopeful fingers, wondering what kind of magic he’d have to possess to make just a few more bills materialize. Unfortunately, magic isn’t one of those things that technically exists outside of the realm of imagination, so, no luck there. At the moment, Louis has just enough money to cover his lunch and still be able to make it home. Though, he’ll definitely have to break into his emergency savings fund later, and sadly that will only carry him for a couple of months.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get it,” his friend says across the table from him. Those final three words that Niall just uttered are the best that Louis has ever heard. It’s too bad they make him feel so guilty.

“Thanks, Ni, but you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine paying for my own.”

“Nonsense. I asked you here, remember? It’s my treat.” Niall slips a card into the bill sleeve causing Louis’ anxiety about not being able to afford this lunch to recede considerably. Louis thanks him again for his generosity, knowing that Niall could most likely _see_ the worry on his face when he graciously intervened.

Louis pushes his near-empty wallet back down into his pocket. He leans back in his hard diner chair to sip the last of his drink, sucking on his straw until an obnoxious slurping sound starts filling the air. He’s so entertained seeing how long he can hold his only remaining cube of ice up with it that he doesn’t even notice his best friend openly staring at him.

“I hate to interrupt the excitement, but have you heard anything back yet about that lecture class? You haven’t mentioned it lately.”

Louis hasn’t heard anything back about the lecture class, the freelance editing position, or even the Starbucks two blocks away.

“No. Not yet. I was going to call again tomorrow to check.” He calls every place he’s applied to at least once a week, but so far all it’s gotten him is a lot of disappointment and a bank account that seems to shrink by the second.

Niall nods understandably, watching Louis resume his melted ice game.

“Maybe you shouldn’t call back. Just don’t worry about it,” he says all of sudden making Louis’ ice cube clatter to the bottom of his glass. He shouldn’t call back one of the only employers that sounded like they might give him a real chance?

“What? Why? What’s wrong with it?” Louis thought teaching an Intro to English class to a bunch of young people sounded alright.

“Nothing’s wrong with it,” Niall says in his own defense. “I just think waiting around to hear back from it is taking the longer route to what you really want. I can get you a job now. If you’re interested that is.”

Louis literally just wished for magical abilities to be able to make himself more money. _Of course_ he’s interested. “I’m listening. Go on.”

Niall grins, clearly receiving just the answer he was looking for. “Well, I just told you how busy we are trying to get this tour ready to go and then just last week, Anthony told us he wasn’t coming back. We’ve been looking for someone to replace him. That someone could be you,” he shrugs.

A job? A job as a roadie for Harry Styles? Louis has to put his straw down. This is serious.

“What would I have to do?” he asks with wide eyes, recalling some of the wilder stories Niall has told him over the years. Louis’ not opposed to a bit of on the road craziness. He’s bored out of his mind lately. He just played with _ice_ for fuck’s sake.

“Mostly you’ll lift shit, load it, unload it, set it up, break it down, and invest half of your money in quality earplugs so you can sleep at night,” he lists off. “But besides all that, it’s also a lot of fun. You meet some really great people. You get to hear live music almost every night. Overall, it’s a pretty cool job. I’ve loved it since day one.”

Any job that pays real money instead of the Monopoly kind that Louis spent most of yesterday contemplating just how counterfeit it _really_ looks sounds like a pretty cool job to him.

“It sounds amazing. You’d really do this for me? You’d talk to somebody?”

Niall rolls his eyes at his question. “Yeah, Lou, of course. I’ll talk to his tour manager tonight. We’d love to have you on. We’re like a circus. We take in anybody.”

Louis finds that funny, until he realizes Niall is fucking with him. “Are you implying that I’m a clown?”

Niall doesn’t even apologize. “If the big red nose fits.”

*

When Niall James Horan says he’s going to pull through for somebody, he doesn’t fuck around.

Louis got a phone call saying the position was his a day later just as he was eyeing that fake Monopoly money again. He had one week to get his affairs in order in which he moved out of the three-bedroom flat he was sharing with two other people, took out all of the cash left in his emergency fund to get him through until his first pay day, and then said his farewells to the city.

He’ll be gone for five months on Harry Styles’ summer European tour which technically extends way past summer, but Louis’ not here to point out mistakes in counting. Almost half of his year will be spent on the road away from his friends and family, but it’s exciting to be doing something so new. It’ll be an adventure of sorts.

It’s the first week of May when Louis shows up at the parking lot behind History Music Studios as instructed. Niall spots him immediately and waves him over to one of the moving trucks parked in the middle of the lot. Louis doesn’t have much time to give himself a pep talk as he starts weaving through the sea of people and equipment.

“You made it!” Niall stops fiddling with the lighting system he’s trying to pack up to pull him into a crushing hug that he usually only receives from his friend when there’s alcohol involved. “So, what do you think so far?” he beams. Is it everything you imagined and more?”

“Uh, it’s definitely something,” Louis chuckles. Everywhere he turns there are people rushing here and there. Louis doesn’t know what half of the stuff they’re carrying even is.

“Yeah, the day before is always mad, but it’s not always like this,” Niall promises.

“Yeah, don’t worry. We’ll show you the ropes,” someone says from behind a massive speaker he’s carrying. The person places it down and then reaches out a sweaty hand for Louis to shake. “I’m Josh. You must be the new guy. Welcome aboard.”

“Thanks. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Louis,” he smiles, already growing quite fond of this man’s kind eyes.

“Not yet you’re not,” Josh smirks. “You’re new guy until proven family. We don’t know if we’re going to keep you around yet, do we, Ni?” Niall grimaces and pushes Josh off of him when he drapes an arm over his shoulders.

“Get off! You’re soaking wet,” he complains.

“Aww, but we’re family. It’s just sweat. Germs don’t rule us.”

“I will knee you in the balls.” Louis is shocked when Niall makes good on his promise after Josh wipes his forehead on the sleeve of his shirt.

Josh goes crumpling to the ground and Louis’ eyes grow even wider watching him writhe in pain. Josh doesn’t let that stop him from retaliating, though. He grabs Niall’s legs and yanks him down to his level for the makings of an all-out street brawl. Louis’ never seen people physically hurt each other like this over a few innocent beads of sweat, but then he realizes that the howls of pain he’s hearing are actually howls of laughter.

Louis smiles at the two of them wrestling on the asphalt while no one else even batts an eye at them. The people who do eventually notice fondly shake their heads like this is completely normal behavior, and for this crew- _family_ \- Louis assumes it is.

*

It was nearly ten o’clock when Louis arrived in the lot bustling with people trying to pack up every piece of equipment needed to make Harry Styles look and sound great on stage.

Niall set him up with a team of other crew members earlier to give him a rundown of how things operate and now at almost five o’clock Louis has been deemed capable enough to load the remainder of the small boxes left.

He’s been out here all day meeting so many different people that he fears he won’t be able to remember half of them without at least a week of practice and familiarity. He glances around at a few crew members now trying to match faces with the names he was given. He gives up after only being able to remember Josh whom he met first, Niall whom he’s known for ages, and the hairstylist, Lou who complimented him on his fringe. He knows three people, and to be fair, he only had as much luck as he did with remembering Lou’s name because it’s the same as his own.

Learning who all of these people are will happen eventually, just not today. Clearly, it’s going to take some time but pretty soon he’ll know them all. There does seem to be one key person missing from the group though. The star of the show. The man for whom this huge tour is being put together, Harry Styles.

So far, Louis has met everyone here from the tour manager to the four drivers responsible for safely getting them and all of Harry’s equipment to his show, but he hasn’t met the actual showman himself. He’s the talent, so Louis didn’t expect to see him out here working in the hot sun with the rest of the crew, but he’d hoped to at least catch a glimpse of him. Just to see what he’s like beyond interviews and the spotlight.

Louis grabs another box and heads up the metal ramp of the truck to deposit it amongst the others. When he comes back down he hears a loud group of people approaching from the other side of the bus. Something must be pretty funny with how much one of them is cackling. He picks up another box, wondering who Josh has badgered into wrestling him again when he straightens his back and sees the man he’s been looking for walking around the front of the bus. Well, he’s _trying_ to walk around the front of the bus anyway. He’s bent over in laughter with one of the guitarists he met earlier named Zayn and the guy who was walking around a few hours ago taking inventory of materials, Liam. Louis gives himself points for remembering their names.

Their party is more than twenty yards away, but even with the distance Louis can tell that Harry Styles is breathtaking. He knew that of course. Everybody with eyes and a pulse knows that, but it’s one thing to recognize his beauty through a screen and quite another to see it in person. It’s crazy to know that he really is that beautiful as well as being insanely talented. Just those two facts alone are almost too much to think about.

Louis splurged some of his emergency fund to download his new single just last month. He didn’t have to buy any of his older stuff thankfully. That was taken care of over a year ago when Louis first heard his music on the radio and stole it for free.

Across the parking lot Zayn lightly punches Harry in the arm to shut him up, but it only makes him laugher harder; brighter and more infectious than any laugh that Louis’ ever heard. Louis smiles just watching him, and then the happy sound stops. Harry stands up straight, looking to his left at something in the distance. The smile that Louis sported upon seeing him fades when he realizes that _he_ is the something that caught Harry’s eye.

Harry is able to give him a small wave, the tiny movements of it stationed just in front of his chest before allowing his friends to pull him along up the steps of the bus. Louis stares at the door he just disappeared inside of, chest light and cheeks warm, wondering if magic might exist after all. He’s enchanted.

 

The high of real-life Harry Styles waving his actual real-life hand at Louis has slightly worn off by the time Niall comes back to find him. Louis picks up his last box and proudly loads it onto the truck marking himself and the crew officially done for the evening.

Niall mumbles for him to quit showing off so much when Louis waves his arms and cheers for the big green check mark he gives himself in his head for day one on the job going in the books.

“What are we celebrating?” someone chuckles.

Louis freezes at the sound of the deep voice, already knowing _exactly_ whom it belongs to. He’s not ready for this. He thought he would be when the moment came, but no. He’s not even slightly prepared. He needs to put his arms down. Harry’s going to think he’s insane.

Niall answers Harry’s question with all the pageantry of someone who doesn’t give two shits whether or not he’s famous. “We’re not celebrating anything. This newbie finished loading all of your shit onto the truck so he thinks he deserves a plaque,” Niall rolls his eyes, a fond smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth when he nods in Louis’ direction. He’s proud of Louis for a job well done too. He just won’t admit it.

Harry looks at him, smile still in place and Louis had something really important that he wanted to say. It was one of those long things comprised of smaller things with a punctuation mark at the end, but for the life of him, Louis can’t remember what the hell it was. Not with Harry grinning at him the way he is. And, is that his real-life dimple?

“What’s your name?” Harry asks, holding out a massive hand that isn’t sweaty like Josh’s and most of the other people who Louis met today. It’s warm and just as soft as the few beams of sunlight left streaking across the sky.

“I’m Louis. Er- Or ‘the new guy’ I guess,” he says, only correcting himself when he hears someone suspiciously Josh sounding snort out a ‘ _Not yet, he’s not!’_

The real-life dimple sprouts a twin in Harry’s other cheek causing Louis’ chest and stomach to do weird fluttery things that he’s come to associate with the effects of feeling happy or smoking too much marijuana.

“I’m happy to meet you, Louis. Are they treating you all right?” Harry asks with a pair of emerald eyes. “Don’t worry about them too much. They give everyone a hard time. Including me,” he jokes.

Louis doesn’t recognize the breathy laugh that pushes itself out of his chest. He has no answer or response for Harry that wouldn’t end with him babbling like a star-stricken idiot, so he just says nothing and nods instead. Honestly, Louis’ a renowned people person. He’s better than this.

“Of course we’re treating him well,” Niall drawls when Louis’ silence becomes weird. “He’s just gotta get used to everybody is all. He’ll be beating the shit out of Josh when he eggs him on in no time.” Harry nods like beating the shit out of Josh when he’s being annoying is a rite of passage. Maybe it is. Louis wouldn’t be surprised with this group.

“Oh, I’m sure. Just make sure he comes out with us tonight,” Harry instructs. “We have to properly initiate him into the crew. It’s the rules,” he smiles. 

Louis and Niall are left alone when Harry gets called over to the bus by one of his managers. He says goodbye before jogging across the lot and Louis watches him go, still unconvinced that he’s real.

“Are you trying to read the label of his underwear with your x-ray vision? Am I going to have to put you on one of those kid leashes during the full moon so you behave?”

Louis kicks Niall in the shin without even looking down. “Fuck off and tell me what’s going on tonight? Where’s everyone going?”

“Okay, first of all, that actually _hurt_ ,” Niall whines before flicking Louis in the ear. “And tonight is the kickoff party. The whole crew goes out the night before each tour begins. It’s something we’ve always done. Ever since the very beginning,” Niall explains. “We have the whole top floor of Lucky’s tonight. It’s a crew favorite.” Louis’ never been there before. He’s never even heard of it, but Harry real-life Styles said he was invited, so damn it, he’s going to be there.

*

When Harry casually mentioned everyone coming to this pub, admittedly Louis’ brain started coming up with a hundred different scenarios in which Harry would personally seek him out again to say a quick hello. They’d chat a while and Louis would laugh at his jokes (even the weird ones) and then by the end of the night they’d fall madly in love and live happily ever after with Harry bringing Louis up on stage night after night to be serenaded by all his love songs firsthand.

That was Louis’ big sweeping romantic fantasy. He gives up on it rather quickly because he’s pretty sure every girl from the age of twelve and up has the exact same one.

So far, they aren’t falling in love. Here in the real world, Louis’ had two and a half beers and an order of mozzarella sticks and Harry Styles hasn’t uttered a single word to him. There were a couple of times where Louis thought he might, but in the end he just aimed a small grin in his direction and continued talking with his close friends.

He’s been with Zayn and Liam most of the night, but even so, he has managed to circulate around to say hello to almost everybody here. Everybody except for Louis it seems. Oh well. His and Harry’s great love affair getting stamped out is probably for the best. Louis has enough going on inside of his brain without adding a make-believe famous boyfriend to the mix.

Instead Louis sits on his barstool between Niall and Josh and their friend Sandy, laughing each time Josh dares Niall to take another shot and the idiot actually does it.

“You’re going to hate yourself in the morning, my friend,” Sandy laughs. “Those four hours up to Manchester are going to hurt.”

Niall waves off the warning, his eyes more glazed than they were a couple of hours ago when they got here. “Nah, I’ll be fine,” he insists. “I’ve got a stomach of steel, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Josh snorts. “ _Vividly_. We all do. We never could get that stain out of the sound truck.”

Louis grimaces. He had wondered what that dark spot was on the floorboard today but knew better than to investigate any closer than necessary.

“I thought we all agreed to stop mentioning that,” Niall sighs.

“That moment will live on for eternity, mate.” Josh notices the slight droop to Niall’s eyelids when he gives his shoulder a consoling pat. “I’m heading to the bar really quick. I’ll be right back,” he announces to everyone. Niall yells for his friend to bring back one of whatever he’s buying for him too. “Yeah, right. You’re getting a water,” Josh snorts. “Maybe even two.”

Sandy goes with him, realizing his own drink is getting pretty low. Louis turns to his best friend as soon as both men are gone. “You puked in the back of an equipment truck?”

Niall sighs again, rolling his eyes like he’s told this story a million times in the past. “Yeah, I did,” he says, defense. “It’s not exactly my proudest moment, you know? I’d like to forget it ever happened, but this lot won’t let it die.”

“We had to get a new speaker set because of that day,” comes a deep voice near Louis’ right ear that is becoming familiar to him at a scarily rapid pace. “Somehow, they never quite worked the same after Niall’s reenactment of The Exorcist.”

Harry slides onto the stool right next to him. “God, that’s so unlike you,” Louis sniggers, trying to remain cool with Harry’s knee less than an inch away from his. Louis has known Niall for years and he’s never witnessed him getting sick from drinking before. It’s his favorite pastime. This is like a superhero losing his powers or like seeing a unicorn. This is officially Louis’ new favorite Niall story.

“It was a one-time occurrence! I had an off day.”

“Harry, I can’t believe you didn’t kick him off your tour for pulling a stunt like that. I would’ve,” Louis mumbles with a playful elbow to Niall’s side that he immediately slaps at.

“Get rid of _Niall_?” Harry asks incredulously. “Why, I could never. To tour without this legend, this…this _national treasure_ with eyes like the roaring sea and an accent like that little green guy on the cereal box is simply unfathomable.”

“I hate both of you. And Sean is Irish too,” Niall points out, gesturing to the drummer over at the bar. “You never make fun of him,” he grumbles. “You’re actually _nice_.”

“Maybe I just love you extra,” Harry batts his eyes. “Oh! I forgot to tell you that I thought of some new jokes today.”

“Alright, that’s it.” Niall gets up already scanning the crowd for Josh and his promised water. “You’re officially drunker than me which means I’m done with you for the night.”

“Aww, Ni. Come on don’t leave. I haven’t even told you the jokes yet.”

Niall fixes his friend with a flat look that says he better not. “Louis, I’ll see you later,” he waves. “Good luck making conversation with _that_ for the rest of the night. He’s a handful with a few drinks in him.”

Louis faces Harry again when Niall leaves them, the glossy effect in his eyes making him look less like a God and more like a boy who’s had one too many. “So, you’re one of those then?” Louis surmises. “A regular old standard run of the mill _lightweight_.”

“ _Hey._ I’m slightly offended by your assumption even though it’s spot on. It’s true, I can be a lightweight, but not tonight,” Harry grins. “When I am smashed, I’m known to be quite the comedian. I knew the threat of a good knock knock joke or two would send Ni running. He hates my jokes. Most people do actually,” he says with small laugh to himself. Louis would like to hear one of these so-called jokes one day. They can’t be all that bad.

“You intentionally ran off your poor national treasure leprechaun?” Louis laughs, shaking his head at this admitted sloppy drunk whose skin already looks pinker and warmer than it was in the sun today. “Why on earth would you do a hilarious thing like that?

“So I could talk to you by myself for a little while,” he grins. “He’s been hogging you to himself all day.”

“Oh, my,” Louis tutts, more pleased than he will ever admit to anybody over Harry simply wanting to talk to him. He wants to scream. He doesn’t, relaying a cheeky yet cool, “We can’t have that, now can we?” instead.

“No, we can’t,” Harry agrees. “Would you like another drink?”

“No, no. I’m alright. I don’t want to end up paying for a truck full of equipment like Niall over there. Wouldn’t want to be chucked off the tour before it even kicks off.” He’s also already down to the wire of his emergency savings fund and he won’t get paid until the end of next week.

“Aw, one more won’t hurt,” he insists sitting a fresh beer in front of Louis that he must have been hiding in his other hand this entire time. “And, we wouldn’t chuck you out just yet,” Harry assures him. “You’re a keeper too. I can tell already.”

Louis’ stomach takes a sudden involuntary swoop. He really needs to get a handle on that if he’s going to work around this man for the next five months.

“So, how was everything today? Niall says this is your first time working a job like this. What did you think?”

“Um, I think it went very well. Perfect. Everyone was incredibly kind and welcoming. They were willing to help out if I had questions, and believe me, I had _lots_ of questions, but they were so nice about it. They all seem like such good people.”

“That’s because they are,” Harry says proudly. “I swear our team is made up of some of the best people in the world.”

“Well, so far you’re pretty amazing too. I think you should include yourself in that.” Harry Styles probably has a billion things to worry about in his day to day life and yet here he is sitting next to Louis, the new guy, asking him all about his day because he genuinely cares.

“Thanks, Louis. That means a lot,” he whispers eventually, suddenly unable to meet Louis’ gaze head on. Maybe he’s not used to people saying good things like that about him. The media sure spews its share of gossip and not much of it is very kind. He’s only known Harry a total of five hours and already he’s one of the kindest people he’s ever encountered.

Louis was pretty star-struck earlier when Harry appeared almost out of nowhere to come introduce himself. Louis had been caught up with the whole Harry Styles persona. His focus had mostly been zeroed in on how amazing and absolutely gorgeous he is. But, now that Louis’ taking the time to get to know Harry Styles the person, he sees a kind-hearted, cute boy with earnest green eyes who just wants to look out for the people he works with every day. He’s still beautiful. Something tells Louis that he always will be, but there are other, deeper qualities there too. Just beneath the surface.

“To your tour.” Louis bumps the mouths of their bottles together, but Harry stops him before he can drink to it.

“To _our_ tour,” Harry corrects, “And all the friends we make along the way.”

*

Two weeks is all it takes for Louis to go from new guy and rookie of the crew to newest member of the family. He made more than a few screw ups with names in those first few days, but now he knows them all and loves feeling as though he fits in perfectly alongside all of his wonderful co-workers.

He has just as much responsibility as everyone else now that he knows what the hell he’s doing with all of the equipment, and he receives no special treatment when it comes to his share of the work load. Niall’s always quick to remind him of that, of course. And also to get back to work whenever he’s slacking off.

Mary, his favorite driver, quickly earned that place in his heart because she always saves the back seat of the van for him when he wants to get a little nap in between cities. And Josh pours cold water down the back of Louis’ shirt whenever he’s not looking just like he does to annoy every other person on the crew who daydreams about choking the idiot in his sleep.

Louis is one of them. He feels like he belongs, and no one has contributed more to that inclusive feeling than the person he’s gotten the closest to, Harry.

Louis had stars in his eyes the first day they met, but he quickly realized that all the hype surrounding the famous singer is exactly that; hype. Louis still thinks he’s the most beautiful person to ever walk the earth of course, but he’s seen the other side of him now too. The side that’s ridiculous and makes Louis fondly shake his head in laughter because as it turns out, Harry real-life Styles also happens to be a major real-life idiot.

His knock knock jokes aren’t just bad like Niall had claimed; they’re painful. Excruciatingly so, and the fact that Louis actually laughs after hearing one only makes it all the worse in his opinion. He’s like a little raccoon stealing people’s food right off of their plates (or in Louis’ case, right out of his bloody _hand_ ) and apologizes with a smile so sweet and innocent that no one can stay mad at him.

Harry’s tour bus is covered in pointless souvenirs from every venue and city that they’ve visited even if he’s already been there a dozen times. And somehow, Louis always ends up being the one who accompanies him out on late night junk food runs because no one else has the energy to keep up with him after a show.

Niall told him he’d meet some great people. Louis expected to make a few good friends on this job, but never in a million years did he think Harry was going to be one of them. He texts Louis just as often as Niall does these days, though Niall’s texts are mostly inquiry messages to find out where the hell Louis is and why he’s not helping. Harry on the other hand wants to talk about everything from the pair of fuzzy socks he forgot in one of the hotels they stayed in to the random new lyrics he thinks up in his head and then demands to know Louis’ opinion of. They seamlessly fit into each other’s lives almost as if they were meant to be there all along, and as far as Louis’ concerned, they were.

*

“Oi! Stop it!”

Louis tries to roll over on the bed to angle his bag of mini-cookies out of Harry’s monster reach, but unfortunately, he isn’t quick enough. Harry steals a whole fistful, which doesn’t sound like a lot until you consider the sheer size of his fucking hands. He may as well have just taken the entire bag.

Harry shovels them into his mouth, a couple falling onto his chest and then onto the floor of the bus. Louis watches in horror as he leans over to retrieve them and instead of throwing them into the bin across the room like a normal person, pops them into his big mouth along with all the others.

“That’s _disgusting_ , you fucking _giant_.”

“Sure, it’s not,” Harry grins, mouth full of chocolate chips. It’s gross and yet Louis is charmed. How Harry manages such a feat, Louis will never know. “That was like, three seconds or something. Probably even more like two.”

Louis raises an eyebrow at that completely inaccurate estimation of elapsed time. Though, he doesn’t know why he’s even surprised that Harry would revert back to primary school five-second-rule law for spilled snacks when just yesterday he justified re-wearing a pair of socks for three days in a row because Zayn supposedly ‘ _stole_ ’ all of his. Which, for the record, turned out to be complete bullshit as well. Harry simply lost them all.

Harry scoots closer in an attempt to weasel more food out of him, but Louis doesn’t even bother trying to move this time. His side is flush against the wall of the bus as it is. He has nowhere else to go, so he just lets it happen and then rolls his eyes when Harry’s face splits into a wide smile.

“You’re such a good sharer,” he praises Louis with a smirk. “So open-hearted. So giving.”

Under normal circumstances, Louis makes a point to not share food at all, especially sweets. He’d tell Niall to fuck off without missing a beat, but this is Harry he’s dealing with here. It’s not like anyone could ever succeed in telling the boy no.

“I think you’re just a very talented thief,” he argues.  

“Ahh, yes. I have been known to steal a few things in my day,” he begins with a wistful sigh. “Hearts, mostly. Miniature baked goods when I’m in the mood.”

Harry cuts his eyes over at Louis in anticipation of the smile he thinks that little joke has earned him. Gradually, Louis gives it to him. A stubborn yet persistent one paired with a silent prayer for all of the poor souls that those beautiful dimples and jawline have claimed.

“What?” he grins as Louis silently admires him.

“Nothing. You’ve got crumbs all over your face,” he lies.

“Oh.” Harry wipes at his clean mouth with the back of his hand, brow furrowed when nothing falls onto his shirt. “Did I get it?” There’s nothing there to fucking _get_ , but Louis’ not going to tell him that.

“Nope. It’s still there. It’s mostly around this area.” Louis moves his finger in a vague circle near Harry’s left cheek, biting back a laugh when Harry wipes at it per his instruction.

“Is it still there?”

“Er- Yeah. Fuck. You made it worse. Now it’s over here.” Louis points at Harry’s right eyebrow, absolutely delighted when his giant palm brushes against nothing but smooth skin. He narrows his eyes at Louis when an accidental snort escapes him.

“There’s nothing on my face is there?” he realizes a whole two minutes too late.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that, love. There’s definitely some embarrassment on there, but no. No crumbs.”

Louis barely gets the words out before Harry is grabbing at him.

“Help! I’m being attacked!” he shrieks just as Harry’s fingers dig into his ribcage. He can’t fucking breathe from how hard he’s laughing, thrashing around so much that he elbows Harry in the stomach. He groans and it only makes them both cackle harder.

Harry sounds just as blissfully happy as he did the day that Louis first saw him with Liam and Zayn; so bright and carefree and just, _Harry_. Louis has become so fond of that laugh that he feels like he missed a step going down when a stern, Irish voice from the door drowns it out.

“What the _hell_ are you two doing? Do you know what time it is?”

He and Harry both freeze and look each other with matching sheepish grins. Louis pops his head up first to better see Niall and take the brunt of his scolding. He immediately schools his face into seriousness when he realizes his friend didn’t come looking for him alone.

“So, I don’t know if you’ve checked your busy schedule as of late or your fucking phone in the last twenty minutes, but we’ve got sound check in less than two hours and half of the equipment is still sitting in a truck across the lot,” Niall informs him. “I thought you might like to call your maid to come unload it, or, oh, I don’t know, do it yourself since it’s your job.”

Louis’ response to his best friend would normally be something snappy and equally sarcastic, but the presence of Harry’s management director makes him think twice about it.

“Er-Yeah, mate. I’m sorry.” The words must sound as strange as it feels for Louis to say them about something so trivial as him losing track of time because Harry’s brow furrows upon hearing it.

He sits up too, already drawing the breath to tell Niall to relax. Harry releases it once he notices the annoyed woman standing there next to him who doesn’t have to say a word to convey her displeasure with them fucking around.

“See you later,” Louis whispers before climbing off of Harry’s tour bed. He shoves his feet back into his shoes without meeting her severe eyes and then wordlessly follows Niall down the steps of the bus. He’s just able to make out the sound of Harry’s manager reminding him that he has better things to do than playing around as well before the door shuts behind them.

“I figured I’d find you two in there.” Obviously Niall wasn’t the only one.

“Yeah. Congrats. You found me! You even brought company,” he deadpans. “Thanks for that by the way.”

“What? I didn’t invite her,” Niall scoffs. “No one could find Harry either. She realized I was looking for you so she tagged along thinking you’d both turn up together.”

“I hate how they bark orders at him all the time.” Louis hops up into the back of the truck to finish unloading it, his mind stuck on the look on that woman’s face when she found them doing nothing but having a good time. The entire crew has welcomed Louis with open arms, but Harry’s management team has never really been a part of that deal. Most people including Harry sometimes wish that they’d just disappear.

“I bark orders at you all the time,” Niall points out with a smirk. “I literally just told you to get off your lazy arse.”

“Yeah, but you’re my best friend. You’re _allowed_ to do shit like that and get away with it.”

Most of the time when someone is telling Louis to get his shit together he deservers it. None of them would even be here if not for Harry.

“They shouldn’t treat him like he’s just some kid.”

“I know. I feel the same, but he’s the talent, not the boss,” Niall shrugs. He’s right, though Louis thinks they could still be a bit nicer to him. “Their job is to make sure Harry’s career stays on track. Our job is to make sure his tour doesn’t go up in flames,” he says, shoving a couple of mic stands into Louis’ hands. “Have fun,” he grins.

Louis resists the urge to push Niall off the back of the truck when he leaves.

Having to get up and actually do shit is never quite as fun as hanging out with his friends, but the experience is always made much more pleasant by getting to hear and see everything going on in preparation for the show.

Harry’s just as busy as everyone else once sound check starts so he and Louis don’t get to talk much. They do see each other every now and then as Louis walks by. Harry waves and makes stupid faces as he and his band run through the set list together. Louis responds with either a thumbs up to tell him he sounds good or a middle finger to tell him to fuck off and stop making him laugh.

The closer it gets to show time, the crazier things become. Thousands of fans pour into the venue to hear the local openers while Louis and the rest of crew are busy running around making last-minute adjustments and finding pieces of equipment that always mysteriously go missing like Sean’s special drumsticks or Zayn’s in-ears that are never in the same fucking place twice.

The seats fill up around them, every person in the room holding his or her breath just waiting for the moment that Harry strums his first chord and sings his first note. None of the crew ever sees him in the last half hour or so leading up to show time. Louis assumes he’s behind the scenes somewhere getting himself ready to come out and light up the stage.

When the last opener finishes and the stage has been prepped for Harry once again, Louis takes his place at the footlights with the rest of their team. Their view isn’t the best standing on the sidelines, but they’re just as close as the people sitting front row.

The lights go down when it’s time and the room erupts into cheers. The crowd hasn’t even seen Harry yet. Their screams are born of nothing but anticipation and pure adrenaline that seeps over into Louis as well. It’s in the air, making him just as excited even though he’s seen this show more times than he can count by now. His knees start to bounce when the timer displayed on stage starts counting down from ten, and then finally, the man that everyone has been waiting for appears from stage right looking every bit as magical as he did the first night that Louis ever watched him do this.

He greets the crowd with a humble smile even though there are over ten-thousand people screaming his name. They all want his attention. They want him to know how much love they have for him and his music. Louis can’t figure out how he does it. How he’s able to represent so many things for so many different people and still make each person feel like he’s here to perform just for them.

The first few bars of the opening song ring out causing the floor to vibrate beneath Louis’ feet. His heart feels like it’s in his throat the whole time, and only settles back into his chest once Harry’s sang though his entire set and says goodnight. He exits the stage much sooner than everyone would’ve liked, leaving the room stripped bare and exposed as if he took all the magic and warmth with him.

Louis stands around just long enough to hear Harry’s fans gush about the performance and then begin to lament his poignant absence. For a moment, Louis feels just as empty as the rest of the people staring up at the stage in disbelief that it’s really over. But then, he grins and remembers that he’ll get to see Harry later on in all of his post show glory when he’s still so wound up that he can’t sit down for longer than two minutes at a time. _That_ Harry has to be his favorite of all. Harry who is fresh off the stage ranks right up there with adorably annoying, kleptomaniac Harry who eats snacks off the floor.

“You coming with us or are you going to go stand in line for a picture too?”

Louis rolls his eyes at Niall, noticing a large portion of Harry’s fans all trying to squeeze their way through the same tiny exit leading to the back of the arena. His fans do this wherever they go because Harry makes a point to come out and meet as many of them as he can. If Louis didn’t work for him, he’d probably be trampling over teenagers and their parents to meet him too.

The crew starts breaking down the stage as soon as the lights come back up. It always feels like it takes twice as long putting everything back. Louis suspects it’s because it’s technically the end of their work day and most everyone is exhausted and ready to get off their feet.

Louis is too once they finish packing everything up two and a half hours later. He’s ready to call it a night when they get to their hotel for the evening. Or, at least he thought he was. That was before his phone started vibrating on his and Josh’s shared bedside table.

‘Hiya! You awake?’

‘No. Maybe. Why, are you?’ Louis sends back, because if anybody should be ready to crash right now it’s Harry.

‘I want pizza obviously,’ Harry sends a minute later, shocking no one because when does he not?

Louis fondly rolls his eyes at the boy who probably hasn’t sat down once since they checked in.

‘Fiiine,’ Louis texts back like giving in to Harry is some huge opposition. ‘You’re lucky I want pizza too. Lobby in five?’

‘YEEES! You’re the best!! Already on my way!’

Of course he is. He knew Louis was going to say yes before he even asked. He always does.

“And where exactly are you off to at this hour?” Josh yawns, watching Louis pull on a jacket and locate the shoes he kicked off as soon as got here.

“Pizza run with Harry. Wanna come? We could always use another fugitive,” he grins.

Josh grimaces at the time displayed on their nightstand, his scrunched up face giving Louis all the answer he needs.

“Suit yourself,” Louis shrugs, almost forgetting to grab his wallet and room key.

“I will. And you better not wake me up when you get back either. I’ll show no mercy tomorrow when I retaliate,” Josh threatens just as the door shuts.

Harry is waiting for him downstairs just as promised in a dark green hoodie that does amazing things to his eyes once Louis’ close enough to see them. They’re tired looking underneath but they’re still bright as ever as he smiles and thanks Louis again before pulling him through the lobby by his arm.

Louis doesn’t even ask Harry how he found the late night diner three blocks away from their hotel. He just watches in amazement as he devours three-fourths of the large pizza they were meant to be sharing.

“I’m so glad Josh didn’t want to come when I asked him. There’s definitely not enough food here for three. Not with you, the baby ogre, around.”

Harry doesn’t deny the fact that he’s already finished his portion and has now moved onto Louis’ as well. “You weren’t even eating your half. You had two bites.”

That’s because Louis isn’t hungry. He ate arena food hours ago while he was waiting for everyone to finish up. He’s not quite sure why he jumps the moment Harry says so, or why he sacrifices sleep to hang out with him this late at night. _Morning_. Whatever.

“I guess I wasn’t as hungry as I thought,” he shrugs.

“You never are,” Harry chuckles. “So, you invited Josh to come?”

Louis blinks up at the strange question, now wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have.

“Yeah, I did but he said he was too tired.” Louis is pretty sleepy too, but he can always catch up on rest tomorrow on the van. “It’s okay that I invited him, right? I mean, I figured he wouldn’t want to come but I didn’t want him to think we were excluding him or something.” Niall ends up being Louis’ roommate most nights and couldn’t care less if he’s invited to gallivant around their host city for the night. Louis never even thinks to ask him to come along, but Josh is a different story.

“Of course it’s okay. More than. I love Josh so I wouldn’t have minded him tagging along,” he smiles. “Though… I am sort of glad he declined,” he admits after a long silence. “I kind of like it when it’s just us for a while, you know? Just you and me.”

Louis keeps thinking that he’s grown immune to the way Harry’s words and heavy gazes can make even the strongest stomachs in the world flutter like mad, but he hasn’t. Not yet anyway. It’s just one of many pesky side-effects of being friends with a man who’s so lovely, he guesses.

“What?” Harry asks when an odd amount of time has passed with Louis just staring at him with a stubborn grin that seems to keep popping up at all the wrong times.

“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing. You’ve got pizza sauce everywhere. You’re a mess. It’s disgusting.”

Harry’s eyebrow furrows as he hurries to wipe over his mouth. He pauses halfway through the movement, probably noticing Louis watching him with too much focus for a splatter of pizza sauce across his chin.

He checks his reflection in the silver napkin holder in the center of their table and rolls his eyes. “ _Liar_ ,” he grumbles over the sound of Louis’ laughter.

“Yeah, but _you_ fell for it. _Again_ ,” Louis mutters.

“Alright, that’s it. I’m not sneaking out with you anymore. I’m asking Josh to be fugitives with me from now on.” He glances up from his pizza slice with eyes that seem almost alive with how much they sparkle from the empty threat he just made.

“Liar,” Louis echoes back, knowing that besides the fact that everyone else is asleep at this time of morning, that Harry wouldn’t choose anybody else to waste time with.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this story were taking place during Harry's winter tour, Louis' birthday would be on Christmas Eve as the universe intended. But it's a summer tour, so naturally, Louis' birthday is in the middle of June :) 
> 
> Please don't throw things.

Louis blinks his tired eyes open on June twenty-first and then immediately shuts them again once he sees a familiar pair of dimples standing over him in a children’s party hat that’s too small for his big head. He’s going to kill Niall.

“Happy Birthday!”

He peeks up at Harry looking completely ridiculous in that cone hat of course, but otherwise looking pretty fucking cute if he’s being honest. “Who let you in here? And who told you?” Louis grumbles.

“Niall told me yesterday,” he beams. “And when I had the brilliant idea to come and surprise you, I made Josh give me his room key. I had to wrestle him for it, but I still won.”

Of _course_ he did.

The bed dips at Louis’ feet as Harry sits down. Louis expects him to stay there, but then he feels the mattress dipping all the way up to the headboard where Harry finally settles. Louis sighs, finally accepting the fact that he’s not going to get anymore sleep. Not right now anyway.

Harry cheers when he sits up, making far too much noise for this early in the morning, but somehow Louis doesn’t actually mind.

“Ready for your surprise?”

“I’m sure you’re going to show it to me regardless,” Louis chuckles. And he’s right. Harry doesn’t even wait for an answer to his question before opening the hand he had hidden by his side to present Louis with a birthday…muffin? What the fuck?

“Well, I’m definitely surprised.”

Harry rolls his eyes, his cheeks turning pink from Louis laughing at him.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs disappointedly. “It’s not as traditional as cake but I just found out about your birthday like, twelve hours ago and it’s breakfast time right now so all I could find around here is a muffin. But, it’s freshly baked from the kitchen downstairs _and_ it’s banana nut which is your all-time favorite,” Harry says enticingly as he wiggles it in front of his face.

Louis never makes a big deal out of his birthday. To him, it’s just another day. His family and close friends have always disagreed and forced him to celebrate anyway. He grins realizing that group of persistent people now includes Harry who practically makes everybody’s birthday a national holiday. 

“Well, I absolutely love it. An ingenious idea. Such creativity and it’s basically breakfast in bed,” he gushes, ducking the slap that Harry aims at his arm for the sass. “Now, I’m just curious, but where’d you get the candle?” Louis asks looking at the rainbow-colored stick wedged in at the top that looks suspiciously similar to the candles that were on Lou’s cake just last week.

“I may have borrowed it from a friend.”

“You mean you stole it from Lou?” Louis laughs.

Unlike Louis’ birthday which he’d prefer to keep under the radar, Lou made a point to have a massive celebration for herself complete with a cake big enough to feed everybody on staff. She blew out thirty-three colorful candles. One of which is currently staring Louis in the face along with it’s guilty-faced hijacker.

“I had twelve hours _and_ we had a show last night! What more do you want from me?” Harry whines.

“A hug,” he answers truthfully. He would’ve settled for a simple birthday hug overall, but Harry of course went above and beyond. He wraps his arms around Harry’s broad shoulders after placing the muffin on the bedside table, holding on tight so he knows just how much he appreciates this.

“Thanks for thinking of me, Haz. And for finding a substitute cake on such short notice. You’re amazing.”

When he lets go, Harry smiles. He meets Louis’ eyes but isn’t able to hold his gaze for long before he’s blushing.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers. “I-I wanted to do something bigger but I didn’t have the time. This is the day you were born after all. Birthday’s are special.”

“Eh,” Louis shrugs. “I get one every year, but this one feels different. I can honestly say that no one has ever reminded me of how fucking ancient I’m getting quite like you.”

Louis watches his cheeks heat up again, but this time it’s because he’s laughing.

“Alright. Hand me the muffin. We’ve got official birthday business to get to.”

Louis places it in his hand and then watches as Harry pulls a random lighter from his left pocket to re-ignite his secondhand candle.

“You pulled out all the stops didn’t you? Where’d you get the lighter?”

“Oh. Er- I may have borrowed it too...Zayn just doesn’t know it yet.” Louis’ willing to bet that he’ll figure it out pretty quickly when he goes to have his morning smoke.

“He’s going to straight murder you. I’m going to have to take over your tour because we’ll never find your body.”

“Not if you hurry the fuck up and make a wish so I can return it,” Harry smirks, holding the candle just below his mouth.

Louis has never done the whole wish thing. To him, it doesn’t make any sense. It’s kind of silly to think that the universe will grant you something special just because it’s the day you were born. Even if he did believe in them, there isn’t anything that Louis particularly wants. He has everything that he needs, so when he blows out his stolen candle, he just says thank you instead. He thanks whoever’s listening for this job he never saw himself doing in a million years and the boy sitting beside him who has become such a good friend that he spent the morning stealing everybody’s shit just to wish Louis a happy birthday. What more could a person ask for?

*

Louis should’ve known something weird was going on after the show later that night when he tried to head back to the hotel after the equipment was loaded and he was literally tackled to the ground by four people and then sat on for emphasis so he couldn’t leave.

Now, he’s drunk and laughing in some random pub in Leeds with birthday cake in his hair because Josh pushed his face into it as soon as he blew out all twenty-four of his perfect, unused candles.

This day has been amazing from start to finish and it’s all because of Harry who hasn’t stopped smiling at him since Louis’ jaw dropped upon entering his own private surprise party two hours ago. Harry and everyone else on the crew who made this possible have also made this the best birthday he’s ever had. He can’t believe he almost missed out on the opportunity to celebrate it with everybody by trying to keep it quiet.

Louis isn’t really keeping score, but he’s pretty sure he’s in the middle of losing a game of pool when Harry sidles up next to him with a fresh drink in his hand.

“For you.”

“Oooh. _Another_ gift? Why, Harry, you spoil me,” he teases. Louis takes a sip of it, pleasantly surprised that it’s not as strong as the ones Niall was plying him with earlier. It’s either that or Louis’ just so far gone now that he can’t taste the difference. Whoops.

“Are you winning?” Harry asks, surveying the unbelievable shot that Sandy just took and made.

“It’s my birthday. Of course I am,” Louis proudly beams, only for Sandy to quickly correct him.

“No, he’s really not _._ The three balls he managed to sink weren’t even his.”

“Aww. That’s too bad...and also slightly tragic,” Harry laughs.

“Well, it’s not like we’re really keeping score or anything.” Louis ignores the firm ‘ _yes, we are_ ,’ that Sandy throws in. Harry leans in a bit closer just before Louis steps up to the table for his turn.

“Hey, can I steal you away from your game for a minute?”

Louis doesn’t have a chance in hell of winning so he graciously passes his cue stick and drink off to Josh. He’s much better than Louis anyway. He actually knows the bloody rules.

“Oh, well, would you look at that! My schedule just opened up. I’m yours just like that Jason Mraz song,” he teases.

Harry shakes his head at him, laughing because Louis is ridiculous when he’s sober- the consumption of alcohol merely encourages it.

He takes Louis by the forearm and leads him through the crowd towards the back of the room. Most of the people they pass pat Louis on the shoulder or wrap him in a quick hug to wish him a happy birthday, mindful of course of the bits of frosting and cake that he missed while cleaning himself up.

Louis didn’t ask where Harry was stealing him away to. He honestly didn’t care because wherever Harry wants to go is good enough for him too. Louis sucks in a deep breath and slowly releases it when they end up outside in the narrow alleyway behind the pub. There’s only one dim streetlamp back here illuminating the brick walls, but the fresh night air feels so good after being cooped up with the smell of cigarettes and beer for so long that he doesn’t mind the dark.

He leans his head back against the wall, letting his eyes close to block out the glowing moon for just a moment. He had been so ready to crash after the show ended tonight. He didn’t expect everyone to know about his birthday or throw him this amazing party. He definitely didn’t think he’d have so much fun that he’d still be awake nearly three hours later, but he’s loving it.

When he opens his eyes again, Harry is watching him from just a few feet away. He’s felt those green eyes on him all night; soft and so concerned about whether or not he’s having a good time. Louis’ having the time of his life and not even just tonight. For this entire tour.

“What?” Louis grins wondering how much of an idiot he must currently look like for Harry to keep staring at him like that. “I know I’m still covered in a shit ton of cake. You don’t’ have to say it.”

“No, Louis. Well, _yes_ , you’re covered in a shit ton of cake and you’re kind of sticky and well, _gross_ , but that’s not why I’m staring.”

“Did you just say I’m _gross_?” Louis snorts a laugh that echoes just as loud as his outraged voice. “Jesus, Styles. Now tell me how you really feel.”

Louis feels his smile fade when Harry walks towards him until he’s able to hold both of his hands. “That’s sort of what I’m trying to do,” he whispers.

The hopeful way that he’s looking at Louis when his hands slide up Louis’ arms to hold his face is even more intoxicating than all the drinks he’s had tonight combined. Even though Louis receives a pretty large portion of Harry’s attention each day, he can’t pretend like he’s never imagined the way it might feel to have a bit more; to have it all. For Harry to look at him and think of him as more too. He usually dismisses those kinds of thoughts just as quickly as they enter his mind.

“You’re drunk. Drunker than me,” Louis manages to say.

He watches Harry’s eyelids flutter closed before resting their foreheads together. “I haven’t had a single drink,” he says on the end of a nervous laugh. “I think about you all the time, Louis. This isn’t anything new.”

The breath from his words falls right against Louis’ skin, making him shiver in the middle of the summer night. Louis had a crush on Harry before they even met. A pointless, silly crush on a man he’d never even seen in real life that he’s been working to get rid of since the day he started working for him. Harry was technically his boss who became an amazing friend whom Louis assumed was mostly straight. There were times that made him wonder of course. The man has glittery shoes and embroidered jackets for fuck’s sake, but there were also times when Harry would look at him in a way that made his stomach feel like it was aflame. Louis thought all of that was just his body reacting to an unrequited crush that he could never truly quit. Now he’s questioning every moment the two of them have spent together.

When Harry kisses him, any doubt of whether or not he’s actually attracted to Louis flies out the window. He’s a gentleman about it at first. Louis wouldn’t expect anything less, but he’s almost shy like he’s anticipating rejection at any moment. Louis wraps his arms around his neck to force him closer until they’re chest to chest. He welcomes the full-body rush that his mouth creates, letting Harry’s tongue and scent overwhelm him until he can’t breathe.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Louis laughs, wondering if all of this is really even happening. For all he knows, he could be passed out of the floor of their hotel and dreaming right now. Harry and his perfect fucking lips could just be a product of all the whiskey he’s had, but it doesn’t feel like he’s making it all up. The way he’s holding Louis’ face and smiling at him with those bright green eyes is overwhelmingly real.

“God, do you even realize how long I’ve wanted to do that? _Too_ fucking long.” Harry answers his own question through a soft laugh that sounds more relieved than anything else.

Louis pulls back to really look at him finding the same Harry who licked the skin of an orange yesterday to keep Niall from taking it. He’s also the same Harry who whispered to Louis just a few hours ago that he’s one of the best people he’s ever known. Louis can’t believe he ever convinced himself that there isn’t more between them than just friendship. 

“And you’re sure you’re sober?” Louis checks. “This isn’t one of those ‘ _I kiss everybody when I’m wasted so I won’t remember any of this tomorrow’_ deals is it?”

“No, not at all, love.” He presses a fresh kiss to Louis’ mouth warming Louis’ chest from the inside out. “I’m definitely going to remember this tomorrow,” he promises. “You’re not someone who’s easily forgettable I’m afraid.”

Louis rolls his eyes to play off how incredibly fast his pulse is racing. “You’re so full of shit,” he chuckles as he pulls Harry in to connect their lips again.

It’s lines like that and pairs of eyes that earnest that make it hard for people like Louis to think straight. More kissing is the only remedy.

*

Louis hates the entire world when he has to wake up at six-thirty the next day feeling like he only just laid down.

He grabs his phone off the charger to set an alarm for five more minutes of blissful sleep. He abandons that whole plan when he sees a new message from Harry that he sent just ten minutes ago.

Louis sports a stubborn grin seeing that the idiot only sent two emojis; a sun and the crying smiley face.

Louis doesn’t really feel like crying, but he does feel like shit so he sends back a string of skulls and the poop emoji, his smile still in place as he waits for Harry’s reply. He doesn’t disappoint, sending Louis the birthday cake, the gift box, and then going for completely fucking rude, the old man emoji.

That won’t do (and again, it’s fucking _rude_. He’s only just turned twenty-four), so Louis goes on the search for the angry, red-faced smiley. He doesn’t get to send it though because a new message from Harry pops up with the horn of confetti followed by the set of pint glasses and then a single crescent moon.

Louis recaps their night scene by scene in his head, holding his breath as Harry’s little dialogue bubbles dance on his screen. The message finally comes through, displaying the emoji of two men kissing and Louis nearly loses his shit.

He flails around in bed for a moment, not sure what exactly to do with himself like this. He kind of hates himself for smiling so hard and feeling so stupidly giddy over a fucking emoji with a heart over two people’s heads, but he can’t help it.

Several precious seconds tick by where he contemplates which emoji to send back. He scrolls through them all a few times before landing on the rainbow hearts. He chooses two; the blue and the green and then hits send with bated breath. His phone swooshes to alert him of the message going through and Louis buries his face in his pillow. Harry Styles has reduced him to mush in a matter of fucking _hours_.

A new message pops up on his phone and Louis nearly snaps his neck trying to read it.

‘I want to see you :) Quick coffee date before we get on the road?’

‘Okay. Lobby in five?’ Louis answers just as fast as his fingers can type it out.

He tears his sheets back, his hangover and exhaustion completely forgotten when he sits up though, he doesn’t get much further than that before he notices Josh watching him at the foot of his bed. He’s got an armful of clothes and a wide smirk that immediately makes Louis want to fling himself out the window.

“How long have you been standing there?” Louis runs back through the short ten minutes he’s been awake today, remembering the smiling, the lip biting, and the stomach fluttering that Josh couldn’t have seen. The flailing and mostly internal squealing though? That probably didn’t go unnoticed.

“Um, long enough,” his roomie laughs. “What the hell were you just moaning about?”

Louis does not want to answer that out loud.

“Er- My stomach was hurting. Bad. Really bad. Like, a lot. But, uh, now it’s all better,” he lies as he locates his shoes and shirt from last night. He runs to the bathroom to brush his teeth in record time and then heads straight for the door.

“Wait, Louis. Where are you going without all of your stuff?” he asks glancing at his own suitcase that’s only partially packed and Louis’ that looks like it exploded over in the corner. “You know we’re leaving soon, right? Twenty minutes.”

“Y-Yeah, I know! I’ll be back for it. I’m just, uh, I need coffee,” he shouts behind him, already headed for the stairs because they’re quicker than the lifts.

He bursts into the stairwell and then falls flat on his arse when he runs into someone else flying down from the floor above who was moving just as fast. He presses a hand to his forehead, not sure if it’s pounding from his hangover or the collision. His first priority is to apologize to this poor person that he almost sent spiraling to their death. He stops when the person crumpled beside him laughs and sounds suspiciously like Harry.

“Oh my God, it’s just _you,_ ” Louis realizes, glad he didn’t just waste his sincere apology on this idiot.

“I was only running to come see _you_. I thought the stairs would be quicker.”

Louis kicks at Harry’s big dumb feet as he continues holding his head and Harry continues laughing his off. He stops when he looks over and notices Louis wincing.

“Shit. I’m sorry, Louis. Come here. Let me see,” he says, gently removing Louis hand to inspect his skin. He smoothes his thumb over it, cringing when Louis jerks away from the touch. “It’s a little red...” he says touching it again, but even lighter this time. He’s being so careful with him. Not at all like he usually is when he’s rolling all over Louis to annoy him or poking him in the side to signal that he wants some of whatever he’s eating.  

“That’s a relief. Am I going to live, Doctor?”

He expects a similar reply full of nonsense, but then Harry leans closer and presses the softest kiss that Louis’ ever felt to his forehead. “I think you’re going to be okay,” he whispers.

No he’s not. Because Harry is going to kill him. Louis’ only more convinced when his warm lips brush against his cheek next and then finally down to his where his mouth is parted and his breaths are hardly even flowing.

This kiss is nothing like the dreamlike ones from last night that were tinged with alcohol and disbelief. Louis’ wide awake today and every brush of Harry’s lips is like a revelation. He lets Harry make up for mowing him down in the stairwell for a long time. His heart is practically jumping around inside of his chest and he isn’t even moving.

He feels like he’s been doused with cold water when Harry’s phone vibrates a few times and brings them back down to earth.

“Are you packed?” Louis asks, sparing a passing thought to his own clothes that are just going to have to remain in crumpled balls until they reach Newcastle later today.

“Kind of. Okay, no. Not really,” he admits.

“Me either. I fucking hate packing.”

“I know you do. You complain about it every time we have to go someplace new, which makes no sense considering you’re on a tour where you generally have to pack up things and travel to someplace new every day.”

Louis gives his chest a shove, hoping to wipe that smirk right off of his beautiful face.

“You’re not as cute as think you are,” he lies. Harry’s dimples pop with his growing smile and Louis’ stomach flips. He used to get distracted looking at Harry when they were strictly platonic. How’s he supposed to focus on anything now that he knows what he fucking _tastes_ like.

“What are you thinking?”

“About how much I don’t want to go back to my room to pack.”

Harry nods in agreement. “Does Josh know you’re here?”

“No. I didn’t tell him.” Louis doesn’t know why exactly. He probably wouldn’t give two shits if Louis said he was popping out for a bit to come see and snog some boy, but something tells him that conversation might not go as smooth if Harry were the one having it. “I kind of got the impression that you liking men isn’t something that everyone generally knows about.”

Harry’s gaze drops momentarily like he was expecting that. “Yeah…You’re right,” he admits. “…What, uh, tipped you off?”

“The media, the tens of thousands of heterosexual women throwing themselves at you every night, and the fact that you pulled me into a dark deserted alleyway to kiss me where no one could see?”

“Oh. Well, at least I was being subtle.” He grins on the end of his attempt at a joke, but Louis can see the worry behind his eyes, dimming the bright light that was there before. “People know. Like, my family and friends and the people who matter. It’s not some huge secret that I’m not super masculine or whatever… and like, obviously people suspect sometimes, but-”

“Hey.” Louis cups his cheek, tilting Harry’s head so that he’s no longer talking to the floor beneath them. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Harry’s private life isn’t anybody’s business but Harry’s. Louis considers himself a pretty close friend of his, or a more than friend now? Whatever. Either way, even as close as they are it’s really not any of Louis’ business either.

“This is sort of new for me and I don’t really know what I’m doing,” he says after a while. “I just know that I really, really like you.”

Somersaults. That’s all Louis can imagine his stomach doing after Harry says that.

Louis shrugs off the blush painting his cheeks. “Yeah, well I guess you’re not so bad yourself.”

*

Louis makes it down to the van with his bags looking like he’s trying to smuggle a band of elephants and one whole minute to spare. He climbs over everybody else who got there on time to his unofficial official seat in the back for a snooze.

“Where’s the coffee you jumped out of bed for?”

Louis frowns and raises his unnecessary sunglasses at seven in the morning to find Josh and the rest of the people in the van staring at him.

“Oh, uh... I drank it already,” he answers.

Louis rearranges his sunglasses and stretches out on his long seat. His nap gets interrupted before it can even start when Josh slaps at one of his feet propped near his headrest.

“What, did you have to go to the moon to get it? You were gone forever.”

Louis smiles without meaning to. Kissing Harry feels like being on the bloody moon. He’s still floating right now.

“And what the hell happened to your head?” Josh and everybody else is staring at the exact spot that Harry kissed over which does feel a bit tight now that he’s paying attention. He runs his fingers over the small bump not even bothered that Harry marked him up.

“What happened? Did you fall last night?” someone else asks.

Louis just smiles like an idiot. He fell alright. Just not the kind they’re thinking.


	3. Chapter 3

Just as quickly as they fell into each other’s back pockets as friends, he and Harry fall into something more even faster.

Even as friends, Louis had always assumed that there was a tiny corner of Harry’s heart reserved especially for him. He used to count himself lucky just to know Harry at all, but now that they’ve crossed over into this new territory, Louis’ tiny corner has flourished and blossomed as if he owns the whole thing. He doesn’t know what exactly to count himself now. Extremely happy, he guesses.

Work was always hard to get through with Harry blowing up his phone about whatever random thought entered his mind. Don’t get him wrong, Harry still sends him _the dumbest shit on the entire planet_ , but he now also sends the sweetest, making Louis grin and blush in front of all of the expensive equipment that thankfully can’t call him out on being a complete fucking sap.

Everybody looks at him like he’s grown an extra head, seeing him bouncing around and smiling for what appears to be no reason, but they don’t know that Harry just sent him an oversized text describing just how much he wants to kiss him, and they can’t feel the way Louis’ heart speeds up knowing that just as soon as Harry’s finished working, he’s going to.

It’s liking walking on air twenty-four hours a day, falling for someone like Harry Styles. Lunch breaks are Louis’ only salvation for spending all of his time pining after him. He sprints across the parking lot as soon as he’s allowed to leave with a one track mind that only settles once he climbs the steps to Harry’s tour bus and firmly locks the door behind him. Harry is usually there waiting for him on his break too and whenever he’s not, Louis knows that he isn’t too far away.

He’s already here today though, lying on the tour bed that’s probably always been too short for him with a half-eaten box of pizza he must’ve convinced someone to go out and get for him. He has his laptop expertly balanced on his stomach that’s covered by a white tank whose armholes are cut so large that he may as well not even be wearing a shirt at all. His jeans are as tight as always wrapped around those legs of his that seem to go on forever. Louis follows the length of them starting from his narrow hips all the way down to his giant bare feet with the word ‘big’ inked onto his toe like he needed help remembering its name.

He looks ridiculous and glorious all at the same time and Louis’ fucking swooning, okay? He can’t help it.

“I saved you some pizza,” he announces when he hears Louis come in.

“Wow, thanks, Haz. That was nice of you. And surprising since you usually eat like a grizzly bear,” Louis smirks. “What are you watching?” he asks, noticing the opening credits of some movie playing on the screen.

“I eat the same amount as everybody else here,” Harry defends himself matter-of-factly, “And this is only my favorite movie of all time. _Planet of the Apes_.”

Harry grins over at him, patting the open spot next to him in silent invitation. Louis can’t wait to oblige.

“Bullshit. You’re scared of sci-fi,” he points out. Not that Louis can talk because hybrid monkeys sound terrifying as fuck, but he’ll endure it if that’s what Harry wants to watch.

Louis toes off his shoes and slides into place beside him. He moves his finger over the mouse pad of the laptop when he’s all settled, grinning when the movie title _Love Actually_ flashes from the bottom of the screen. A romantic comedy is _definitely_ more of Harry’s speed. Especially one that he’s watched so often that he knows it by heart.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know? Never kill anybody. You’d never make it in jail.”

“And why’s that?” Harry grins, snapping the laptop shut before the movie can even begin. “Is it because I’m too pretty?”

“No, too ugly. God, look at you. You’d have no friends. Probably not even the guards,” he mumbles.

Louis shrieks when Harry abandons the laptop completely to attack. He digs those massive fingers into Louis’ sides so hard that all Louis can do is curl up in a ball and take it as he struggles to breathe through his laughter. “Okay! I’m sorry! _Fuck_ , I take it back!” he yells.

The assault ends a few seconds later, but Harry’s hands don’t leave him. They soften as they take hold of Louis, only turning gentler by the second as he uncurls Louis’ body to lay him flat against the mattress.

Everything is suddenly a lot less funny when Harry leans over him. Louis knows what’s coming when Harry’s eyes flash to his waiting mouth. He’s been anticipating this moment all day and yet his breath still catches in his throat when their lips finally meet.

It’s past three in the afternoon but for them this is still technically lunch time. Everyone is always running around so much trying to get things ready that they won’t have another large block of free time to eat until after the show tonight. Harry saved him some food. Louis should eat it so that he’s not hungry later on when it counts, but taking time for food right now seems like such a waste when being with Harry feels like this.

His lips are sinful even when they’re not pressed against his, but it’s the rest of him that makes it hard for Louis to think straight; his hands gliding down his chest and under his shirt like he has to physically feel the way Louis’ heart is pounding to make sure he’s doing a good job. He is. He’s doing such a good job that Louis has to force himself to think of tragic and disgusting things like Niall’s arse just to keep himself in check when Harry’s hips start moving of their own accord to grind against his.

Louis can’t be sure of how long he lies there suffering, only that his lips are good and tender by the time he makes himself pull away from fear of coming right in his jeans.

Those abrupt kind of moments happen a lot whenever they’re together like this. There have been times when Harry has gotten him so worked up that he wants to rip off all of his clothes and beg Harry to just fuck him already, but he doesn’t of course. Thankfully, he has more self-control than that and he never lets things go too far. One, because it’s always the middle of the day so the two of them can never sneak off together without being interrupted shortly after. Two, because although Harry’s never said so out loud, Louis’ pretty certain that his level of sexual experience with men is well, _limited_. And three, despite Harry Styles giving him blue balls like he’s never felt in his life, Louis quite likes what they have going on right now. He wants more with Harry of course. He always does, but it doesn’t have to be all at once. He can wait.

“ _No_ , don’t go yet,” Harry pants when he feels Louis pulling away, his grip tightening around his body to keep him there, “Stay just a little while longer. Please?” he tacks on at the end, begging Louis with those big green eyes of his and a mischievous grin that has Louis picturing a lot worse than just his best friend’s bum.

Harry has an interview in a few minutes and Louis has to get back to work soon too. He should really get going, but it’s not like he’s going to tell the man no. Only an idiot would.

“Yeah _,_ alright. I’ll stay. If I must,” Louis answers, pointedly ignoring his own semi as well as the vibrating phone stuck in his pocket that’s honestly not helping matters.

“You must,” Harry declares. He drops a surprise kiss to Louis’ nose before reaching behind him to wedge his phone out of his back pocket.

It’s Niall of course. It always is, and if Louis doesn’t show up within the next ten minutes he’ll come right here looking for him. Clearly, Harry knows this too which is probably why he types out that Louis’ on the toilet and hits send.

“Nice, but you know he’s going to come here as soon as he realizes that I’m _not_ taking a massive shit.”

“Yeah,” Harry shrugs, “But at least now he’ll spend another fifteen minutes searching all the bathrooms he can find until he figures it out.”

It’s not the approach that Louis would’ve taken to postpone going back to work, but he can’t argue with logic.

“You, my friend, are a genius.”

Louis tries to give Harry a kiss to go with all of that praise, but Harry’s making that extremely difficult to do with how distracted he is with Louis’ phone in his hands.

He takes advantage of having it in his possession for once by unlocking it and then scrolling through all of his music. And because Harry’s a bigheaded little shit, he goes straight to the H’s to check for his own name.

Louis fondly rolls his eyes. “I already told you I bought your new album. What kind of tour-hand would I be if I didn’t? I’m offended you didn’t believe me.”

Louis screams the lyrics to his songs every night. That alone should show Harry where his loyalties lie.

“No, no, I believed you,” he assures him. “I did. I just wanted to see if-” Harry frowns when he’s able to scroll past his most recent album down to two blank ones without any artwork or details. “What are these?” he frowns, already opening the first album of his that Louis stole forever ago. Harry’s eyes widen when his own voice starts singing back to him. He lets out the loudest cackle that Louis’ ever heard, and fuck if he doesn’t love the sound of that.

“Witches cackle,” Louis informs the idiot who’s now laughing so hard that there are tears in his eyes. “Witches and evil villains too. I just think you should know that and what something like that implies about a person.”

“You illegally downloaded my first albums?”

He doesn’t even sound offended. He can’t. Not when he’s laughing so hard.

“Maybe. Okay, _yes_. What do want from me? I heard your singles on the radio and I was flat broke. I regret nothing.” Louis holds his chin high, because he buys _most_ of his music these days. He even uses real money and everything now that he has some.

“Well, it’s no wonder I couldn’t afford that yacht I had my eye on a couple of years ago. You basically robbed me blind.”

Louis rolls his eyes, mentally calculating all of the pointless souvenir hoodies and t-shirts that Harry has accumulated over two months’ time and how they probably cost more than Louis’ entire wardrobe. “I think your bank account survived the hit,” Louis mumbles.

Harry ignores his sarcasm. He drops his phone onto the bed between them, now giving Louis every bit of his attention. It’s a big responsibility being the sole focus of someone with a face that beautiful, but Louis’ not complaining.

“You liked my songs before you even met me?” It’s posed as a question even though Louis’ incriminating phone is evidence enough.

“Yeah, I did. I liked _you_ too. Before I met you, I mean,” Louis says feeling a little blush creep up on his cheeks from admitting that out loud. Harry’s eyes are like lights from the way they shine with the smile that pulls out of him. He answers Louis with a deep kiss that makes Louis want to stop time and stay right here on this tiny bed with him forever. As amazing of a skill as that would be, Louis doesn’t actually have the ability to do something like that. Time keeps right on moving but he tries not to notice quite as much.

Their little bubble soon gets poked just as it does every other day they sneak off from the rest of the world. One of Harry’s managers tries to beat down the door a few minutes later because Harry’s officially late for his interview, and Niall has already sent five messages threatening to shave Louis’ eyebrows off in his sleep for sending him on a wild goose chase through the venue toilets.

Louis leaves Harry when he’s forced to, but his heart and mind stay with him.

“You look extremely happy for someone who apparently has explosive diarrhea,” Niall comments.

Louis’ response of _your face looks like diarrhea_ comes a beat too late to be effective. Harry has him off his game.

“That was so fucking weak,” his friend laughs. “You didn’t even try that time.” Louis shows him weak by slapping him across the back of his neck, but it’s just as tame as his comeback when paired with the dopey smile he can’t seem to get rid of.

*

“Tupac or Biggie Smalls?” Harry asks through a mouthful of burger later that night. _Morning_. Whatever.

Louis munches on a fry as he mulls over his options. “Er-Neither? Flo-rida,” he answers brightly just to see Harry’s face fall.

“You’re disgraceful. Who let them hire you?”

“Um, I believe that idiot was you, boss,” Louis grins, lightly kicking at Harry’s feet beneath their table. “I didn’t know a thorough knowledge of nineties rap was a prerequisite for moving all of your fancy shit from town to town,” he teases.

“Well, surprise. It is,” he says before kicking Louis right back in retaliation. “Okay, since you have _no_ street credibility whatsoever, name your top two favorite Beatles songs. _Go_.”

This is a game they’ve been playing pretty much since Louis joined the crew. He learned rather quickly what exactly to say to get under Harry’s skin. Naturally, he now uses it to his full advantage.

“The Beatles… now, remind me who they are again?” Harry isn’t falling for it this time, staring Louis down until he cracks under the weight of those glittering eyes.

“Alright, alright. I’ll play along,” Louis laughs, finally getting serious after Harry kicks him again. “But, why top two?”

“Because nobody could ever choose just one,” Harry shrugs like it’s common knowledge. Louis guesses it is.

“Fair point. Alright, since you’re forcing me to make hard decisions at half two in the morning, I guess I’m going to go with _Dear Prudence_ and _Lucy in the Sky.._. _with diamonds_ , of course,” Louis adds in case Harry’s a song title Nazi like Niall. “The first, because it’s just pure magic and happiness in song form. It’s honestly brilliant. And the second because, well, _Lucy’s_ just quirky innit?”

Louis waits for Harry’s response, knowing that a self-proclaimed music lover and critic of his caliber is sure to have an opinion or two about that. Surprisingly, he doesn’t much. He says nothing actually, just dopily smiling down at his half-eaten food like he’s practically in love with it.

Strange.

*

Stuffed and slightly delirious from the late hour, the two of them make their way back to the hotel. It’s now Louis who’s having trouble keeping a straight face from the way their linked hands gently swing between them with each step. It’s a new development. Something that usually only occurs when they’re behind the locked door of the tour bus where no one else can see, but Louis doesn’t mind them branching out.

Holding someone’s hand has never made him feel this way before. Most of the time Louis never even gets to all the cutesy hand holding stuff because he’s too preoccupied by the promise of mind-blowing casual sex to care. But things are different with Harry. _Louis_ is different with Harry, and right now their hands linked together feels just as amazing as all of the mind-blowing sex he’s so fond of.

Well, maybe it’s not _that good_ , but it does feel pretty nice. And Harry is lovely and exploring all of this for the first time so _baby steps_ , Louis reminds himself. Baby steps.

It’s past time for them to say goodnight once they make it to Harry’s door. It’s almost three in the morning, but Harry doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t let Louis get too far away from him either.

He steps up to Louis once he’s made sure they’re alone in the corridor, his soft breaths falling against his mouth before his lips do. It feels like every other goodnight kiss that they’ve shared; slow, but with just enough of a burn behind it that Louis’ sure he’ll spend the rest of the night dreaming of his mouth.

It builds like a fire being stoked right inside of him as Harry chases the taste of his tongue like he’s been starved of it for years. Eventually Harry gets so lost in him that Louis ends up pushed flat against the door. He opens his eyes and takes his first full breath in minutes when Harry finally lets him go.

“Jesus, how am I supposed to sleep after _that_?” Louis says on the end of a breathless chuckle. He’s nearly as wound up now as he was on the bus earlier today. He isn’t in immediate danger of coming in his jeans this time, but if Harry kisses him like that again he’s going to get there pretty quickly.

Harry rests their foreheads together, his hands sliding down Louis’ waist until his fists are squeezed tight at Louis’ sides like it’s the only way to keep them in check. “You don’t have to,” his whispers, voice thick and heavy in way that Louis’ never really heard before. “Maybe you could just skip going back to your room? Come inside with me instead?”

The only frequency Louis’ ears pick up after that is white noise. Static. Because if he’s not mistaken, Harry real-life Styles just invited him to his room for the night to _not_ sleep.  

“Y- You just said that out loud, right? Like, I didn’t make that up in my head?” Louis has lived this fantasy over and over in his head so many times that he has to make sure.

“No, I really said it,” Harry assures him. “And I meant it too. Stay with me.” He trails his lips down the column of Louis’ neck like he’s not already having trouble stringing two thoughts together.

He’s fresh off of an internal freak out about holding Harry’s hand on a deserted street at night. He literally _just_ reminded himself that he needs to take baby steps with him and now Harry’s biting at his collar bones and pulling at the hem of his shirt, trying his best to get Louis in his bed for the night. This wouldn’t be a baby step. This would be like the baby running and jumping clear across the fucking universe.

“O-Okay. But, are you sure? Like, you said this was all basically new. Have you ever done this before? Not like _ever_ of course,” Louis clarifies, “I know you’ve had sex before, but like, I’m not so sure about men?”

Louis is babbling, but only because this feels monumental and he is extremely unprepared. He thought sex was a long way off for them _if_ they even made it that far. Hell, he thought they were just sneaking out for burgers.

“Relationships with men is new for me, but this won’t be my first time.” It’s a quiet confession but one that makes Louis breathe a lot easier. “There was this guy from my label once. It was only a couple of times and it was always rushed so we wouldn’t get caught, but, I don’t want it to be like that with you,” he frowns.

“And it won’t be,” Louis promises. 

He’s no stranger to sleeping with men. There have been more than he’d care to count so he can’t exactly relate to Harry’s one guy at his label, but the rushing around part sounds pretty familiar. Drunken casual bathroom sex in a pub doesn’t really leave time for sentiment. It doesn’t leave time for anything really besides two people manually getting off with each other and then quickly leaving the scene of the crime. Louis doesn’t want that for him and Harry either. They both deserve more. That’s the only reason he’s able to push his next words out of his mouth. 

“Haz, let’s wait.” 

Harry sighs against him like Louis just told him the world was ending.

“You don’t want to have sex with me,” he says in the crook of Louis’ neck, causing goose bumps to rise there.

“Babe, if you looked down right now, you’d know that I _really_ , _really_ do. But, Haz; it’s late. We have to be up before six o’clock, it’s already past three, and we’re both exhausted.” Saying these reasons out loud is for Louis’ benefit just as much as it is for Harry’s. Those words are about the only sliver of good sense his brain has managed to hold onto. “I’m going to sound like such a sap, but I just think our first time should be better than that, you know? We should both be conscious for starters. I’ve heard that helps.”

Harry stands up grinning at his joke, but he doesn’t argue that this probably isn’t the night.

“Well, I was just thinking that we get time off next week… three whole days,” he points out. Louis comically widens his eyes and Harry cackles like everyone around them isn’t sleeping. “Not that we’ll take that long, of course,” he hurries to say. “I just meant that we could pick one of those nights instead.”

Having no shows to prep for and nowhere to travel to would definitely give them the uninterrupted time alone they’re looking for. It actually sounds kind of perfect. “I’ve never had a sex date before,” Louis smiles, quite liking the sound of it the more he rolls it around in his head. Louis’ sure that such an arrangement might make some people feel cheap, but he’s just fucking buzzing.

“Yeah, I know,” Harry laughs. “Is it lame that we’re planning ahead?”

“No, not at all. Actually, it’s the best decision we’ve ever made because now I have time to plan out every single thing I want to do to you. And trust me, it’s a _very_ long list.”

Harry’s face crumples before he hides it in the crook of Louis’ neck again.

“This was your plan, and it’s only a week, love,” Louis laughs. “Less than really. Technically it’s already tomorrow, so only six days left.”

All he gets is a devastated groan in response.

*

Harry agreed to being good and waiting a week before they take the next step, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to kill Louis before they even get there.

Lunch breaks used to be Louis’ only salvation; a safe haven of sorts to unwind with his favorite person, but now when he climbs the steps to the bus Harry is on him before the door is even completely shut, like even waiting for _that_ is taking too long. They land in a mess of deprived lips and hands and Harry doesn’t let him come up for air until their phones start vibrating nonstop, practically shaking the bed more than they are by dry humping on it.

He feels Harry’s eyes on him while he’s working and Louis gets a slap across the back of the neck almost every day because he’s practically drooling while watching Harry rehearse with his band. Things only get worse when it’s actual show time. The lights go down, Harry finally graces the stage, and Louis can’t even pretend like he isn’t affected by his songs and his voice and his presence and just _him._

Louis starts to feel personally attacked after one night when the entire band erupted into a massive water bottle fight in the middle of their set. They were all so soaked by the end of it that most of them played the remainder of the show shirtless. Harry was one of those glistening bodies on stage, strutting around on it with his tattooed skin and wet jeans clinging to him even tighter than usual. Louis hadn’t even realized his mouth was hanging open until Niall reached over to close it for him.

Not having sex with Harry sucks. That’s the only way to describe it. However, waiting isn’t _all_ bad. Not being allowed to touch each other when they both so clearly want to is the most maddening experience ever, but knowing that they’re doing all of this waiting around in interest of themselves and their relationship makes it all worth it. Louis’ never been in a relationship where something like this would matter to him. He doesn’t mind the sacrifice if it’s going to bring them closer in the end.

By some miracle, they make it to the last show before their break. It took a lot of cold showers and the mental images of several gross arses on Louis’ part, but here he is; standing in his usual place at the side of the stage as Harry and his band say goodnight for their last show of this leg of the tour. There’s only a stage full of equipment and a couple of hours standing between all of them and freedom. Louis’ stomach does a flip, remembering that his three days of freedom are going to feature the man who just skipped off stage.

“Alright, we’re up,” Niall says to the crew as he leads the way up to the stage to start breaking it down.

Louis pulled more than his fair share of the workload when they set everything up, so he starts small tonight, grabbing a few mic stands first. He takes them backstage along with the smallest amp in case somebody notices him taking the easy way out and tries to call him on it.

He places it all down beside the other equipment that has already been dumped, sighing and rolling his eyes when he feels an impatient tap on his shoulder. He turns around with his bullshit excuse for why he’s slacking on the heavy lifting ready on his tongue, but he doesn’t even have to tell Niall to fuck off because he isn’t the one who tapped him. It was Harry; still buzzing from being on stage with a huge dimply smile and completely drenched in sweat from the stage lights.

“What the hell are you doing back here?” Louis snorts. He’s been on this tour for months and Harry has never resurfaced this early after disappearing to go unwind.

“I’m stealing you,” he grins before pulling Louis by the arm and out of the room. 

“I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again,” Louis laughs as they climb into the back of a bright yellow cab that seems to have magically appeared behind the venue. “You are a _terrible_ thief.”

There probably wasn’t a single person backstage who _didn’t_ see them running out the back door, and now they’re in the most conspicuous vehicle on the planet, but Louis’ just pointing out facts.

“Okay, first of all, you’ve always said I’m a _good_ thief,” he pouts. Details now as far as Louis’ concerned. “And I _guess_ I could’ve planned this a little better, but Lou, we _finally_ have some time off and I didn’t want to wait a minute more to start spending it with you. Do you think people know where we went?"

Louis’ pretty sure anybody with working eyes and half a brain knows that he and Harry are currently up to no good. There’s also the hundreds of people currently crowded outside the side of the arena who are probably finding out right about now that their idol has already fled the premises.

“ _God_ , _no_ ,” Louis scoffs. “This was so brilliantly executed that I bet nobody suspects a thing. They probably haven’t even noticed we’re gone.”

Harry; beautiful, amazing, and disgustingly sweaty Harry barks out a mad cackle that just makes Louis fall even more in love with him. He hasn’t told Harry yet. He’s been waiting for just the right moment, but he’s sure Harry feels it anyway when he captures his lips in a kiss that Louis feels all the way down to his toes.

“You’re an amazing liar,” he chuckles against his lips. “Thank you.” Louis’ legs weaken with the billion-watt, crooked smile that Harry flashes when he pulls back from him.

 It’s a good thing he’s sitting down.

*

The ride to their hotel lasts about half an hour with the traffic and in that time, their lips never separate. Louis heads up to the room he’s supposed to be sharing with Niall for the next three days and packs a smaller overnight bag to take with him.

He texts Harry that he’s coming over when he’s finished double checking that he’s got all the essentials like a toothbrush and apparently an entire box of condoms because he didn’t want to seem presumptuous by taking out too many and he didn’t want to appear terrified like he actually kind of is by bringing just one. At least with the unopened box Harry doesn’t have to know that he had an existential crisis about it.

His stomach flutters like mad when Harry sends him a couple of thumbs up and a smiley face in response. It’s all Louis can do to keep from sending a few poop emojis in answer because he’s so ridiculously nervous right now he wouldn’t be surprised if that were his fate.

He releases a long, slow breath when he arrives at Harry’s door. As he knocks, he can’t help wondering if he would’ve had time to build all of this up so much if they’d just gone ahead and gotten it over with a week ago. He’s a wreck over nothing right now, but he guesses that’s just what falling in love does to people. Louis wouldn’t have followed suit behind them if he knew it would make him this crazy. What’s even more insane is how he thinks he had a choice.

Louis doesn’t know what he was freaking out for when Harry opens the door with his messy post-show hair and a half-eaten container of Ben and Jerry’s in his hand.

“You’re here. Glad you found the place alright.” Harry beams at the room number engraved on his door.

“Yeah, I got confused at one of the traffic lights back there. Made a u-turn at the lifts.”

Louis squeezes is eyes shut as soon as the terrible joke leaves his mouth. His embarrassment fades with time though, and when he opens his eyes again Harry’s fond, dimpled grin is all he sees. “Would you like to come in?” he offers to put Louis out of his misery. Seriously, Louis has no idea what’s wrong with him. He made a u-turn at the fucking _lifts_??

“Yes, please. If I stand out here any longer I’m likely to start making knock-knock jokes like some kind of weirdo.”

The playful way that Harry’s eyes narrow in offense instantly restores Louis’ self-confidence. He’s back.

“Keep that up and you get no ice cream.”

“Oh, God, no! How will I go on?” Louis mumbles as Harry pulls him into the room by his t-shirt.

Louis places his bag beside Harry’s things over by the window and takes a seat at the foot of his massive bed. Harry tilts the ice cream in his direction but Louis waves it off. His stomach is just starting to feel alright again.

“So…” Louis says as he glances around the single room that isn’t much different from the doubles he’s used to sharing with Niall and Josh. “Besides stuffing your lovely face as per usual, what else were you doing? 

Harry rolls his eyes, putting his snack back in the freezer of his mini-fridge. 

“Well, I was thinking I’d take a shower. I smell pretty bad.”

“I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you that since day one. Glad you finally got all of the hints.”  

 A loud shriek fills the room when Harry lunges and attacks by holding him down on the bed and rubbing his damp hair all over the front of Louis’ shirt.

“ _I was thinking of taking a shower_ ,” he repeats after Louis is good and disgusting, “But I wanted to wait for you.” 

“So you could contaminate me with your filth? How kind,” he deadpans. 

“No. So you’d join me. And now thanks to my genius, you’re just as gross as I am,” he proudly grins.

“ _Wow_. You’ve got me in some box there, Styles.” He hates that this is totally working for him; that Harry really is gross right now and that his dumb smirk just makes Louis want to kiss him.  

“Mhmm,” Harry hums, dropping a kiss to his nose because it’s the closest thing he can reach. “So, as you can see, I’ve made it almost impossible for you to say no.”

Something Louis would never dream of doing.

He starts by toeing off his shoes, laughing when Harry’s eyes light up from the sound of them hitting the floor. Louis starts on his shirt next, slapping at Harry’s giant arm pinning him down so he can pull it over his head.

His jeans come off next, however he hesitates at his underwear. Not because he’s shy. It’s just because Harry’s neither blinking nor breathing as he watches and it’s pretty hilarious. He rolls them over his hips and down his thighs much slower than he ever would if he were alone, but it kicks Harry’s arse into gear with shedding his own clothes and running their shower, so Louis deems it as a necessary evil.

Before they run off to the bathroom together Harry takes the initiative to turn off both of their phones and toss them on the bedside table. Work always interrupts their time together during the day, but Louis guesses that won’t be the case tonight. He’s just glad that they get this opportunity to be with each other 

Louis goes over to his bag in search of the condoms he brought, but Harry stops him with a soft, _not yet._ They’ve got all night and no one’s going to be bothering them, so Louis guesses that means they can take their time.

Harry kisses him and Louis immediately bends at his will, allowing Harry to walk them to the bathroom and lock them in with the hot steam of the shower.

The water feels so nice against his skin that all of the nerves from before seem to slide right off his shoulders. The fact that Harry stumbled over his own feet while stepping into the shower and nearly caused them both to wipe out on the tiles only makes Louis feel more at ease; like it’s just another day at the office.

Louis has never shared a shower with someone, but the logistics of it aren’t too hard to figure out. He pulls Harry under the spray, grinning when the sudden rush of water in his face makes him splutter. 

“This is supposed to be romantic, you know?” he points out as Louis stands on his toes to work shampoo into his hair. Harry’s not exactly helping by talking instead of bending down so Louis can reach. “Couple showers look so sweet in all the movies.”

Louis resists the urge to tug on a lock of his hair for implying that he’s anything less than fucking darling. He kind of starts to agree with him after a few minutes when they’ve elbowed each other more times than Louis can count and Harry’s right eye is burning because he leaned his head forward instead of backward like Louis told him to. It’s true that bathing together may not be the sexiest thing they’ve ever done, but it’s not all bad. Harry quickly changes his tune about it after they’re finished soaping up and rinsing themselves off and Louis drops down to his knees in front of him.

Now, Louis may not have experience with cutesy couple shit like washing each other’s backs, but this is something he knows how to do. He gets to live out ever old fanboy fantasy he’s every had by making Harry Styles the superstar come down his throat. He gets to live out one of his everyday boyfriend fantasies as well by ruining him because Harry is speechless afterwards and Louis didn’t think that was even possible. Maybe he broke him. 

“Are you okay? You still awake?” he laughs. He never does receive an answer; just a deep kiss that leaves Louis a little speechless too.

They stay in the shower until the water starts to run cold, but Harry is right there with a towel and his hands to warm him up again. The soft bed is a nice change for Louis’ back after being upright for so long. Harry guides him to lie back on it, his eyes a little more anxious than before when he starts fiddling with the cap of the lube. His hands hold a slight tremble as he settles down between his legs and Louis hears the deep breath he lets out.

In the midst of Louis’ inner crisis over being so serious about someone that he actually waited for sex, he almost forgot that this is all very new and different for Harry too. He hides his nerves well of course, much like he does right before a big show, but Louis can still tell that he’s in his head worrying. He wants Harry to know that he feels completely comfortable and safe with him. He needs Harry to understand that he trusts him more than anybody else in this world and that this night is already perfect no matter what happens.

“I love you.” 

 _Or that._  

Harry pauses with one hand around his thigh and two slick fingers poised at his entrance. The look of concentration on Harry’s face melts away, but it’s quickly replaced by a blinding smile accented by a pair of dimples that Louis still can’t get over. 

“I probably could’ve chosen a better moment to tell you that.”

“Yeah. Probably,” Harry snorts, “But, I’m thrilled to hear it anyway because I love you too.” 

“Seriously? Even after I told you like _this_?” he gestures. They’re both rock hard and Harry was just mere seconds from shoving his fingers up his bum. The situation isn’t exactly poetic.

“Yes, even like this,” he chuckles. “Honestly, I think this has just made me love you even more if that’s possible. I didn’t think it was.”

Why Harry has to say amazing things that feel like a punch to his heart, Louis has no idea. He can feel heat blooming beneath the apples of his cheeks when Harry kisses down the inside of his thighs. The combination of Harry’s mouth and his words and his love is just too much. He honestly doesn’t know how he got this lucky, but he’s so glad that he did.

He lets his legs fall open with every confident press of Harry’s lips until he feels his fingers gently sliding into him. He doesn’t even notice when Harry slips in another, steadily dropping kisses onto Louis’ skin as a distraction. It feels like slipping into a warm bath or that feeling you get just before you fall asleep, so Louis allows his eyes to roll back. He’s so relaxed that the moan Harry wenches from him comes as a complete surprise when he reaches deep inside of him.

Harry’s face is set in concentration as he opens him up. Louis thought him finding his prostate was a lucky guess, but it’s clear that it was intentional when Harry keeps fucking doing it. 

“I’m going to come if you don’t stop,” Louis moans, not really caring at this point if he does. It’d be a relief from the tension building up inside of him, but Harry heeds his warning and carefully removes his fingers.

Louis releases a deep breath and presses the heel of his palms to his temples knowing for a fact that he isn’t going to last much longer once Harry rolls on the condom he’s currently working with. It’s been months with nothing but the fantasy of this night and his own hand which has been working overtime since he and Harry officially got together. He’s had to sneak off to the bathroom for multiple wanking sessions ever since. Sometimes even at night while Niall or Josh are sleeping just outside the door, but it’s not like Louis can be blamed. His own hand is the only reason he hasn’t gone completely mad. 

Just as predicted, Louis’ body is like a live wire when Harry finally pushes into him. After all the foreplay this past week just leading up to this moment, Louis thought he’d be a bit more prepared. He isn’t. Not even at all.

He’s not prepared for the steady rhythm of Harry’s hips or the way his eyebrows furrow in silent concern of whether or not he’s doing a good job. He's doing a fantastic job. So much so that Louis can’t hold back the orgasm threatening to tear right through him as he clings on.

He doesn’t tell him when he’s about to come. He knows that if he says anything at all he’s going to scream it so loud that the whole building will probably hear him. Louis clenches his jaw to keep the sound trapped there, but he digs his nails so far into Harry’s back that he does all of the moaning for them as he’s pulled over the edge too.

* 

Louis feels like he’s floating the next morning when he realizes after several minutes of smiling like a fool in his sleep that he’s not actually asleep. He wakes to the cruel sound of an alarm almost every day, but right now Harry is currently doing the honors as he kisses down his body.

“That feels amazing,” Louis drawls, already half-way back to dreamland as he releases a content sigh.

“Oh, no,” Harry chuckles. Every warm breath of it lands right against Louis’ skin, igniting a small flame at the pit of his stomach. “You’re not going back to sleep on me. It’s already noon.”

Noon. Louis can’t remember the last time he had the pleasure of sleeping in for that long. He wouldn’t mind taking advantage of his free day just a bit more by stealing another few minutes. If Harry will let him of course.  

“No, love, get up. I want to spend the day with you. Preferably conscious.” Louis is conscious alright. His eyes fly open with the quick gasp he makes when Harry bites a mark onto his hipbone.

“But it’s our day off,” Louis complains just to get him to bruise the other hip. He smirks when that’s exactly what Harry does.

“I know and I want to kiss you and eat real breakfast with you with coffee in real mugs,” he says, now leaving a kiss on every new inch of skin he encounters as he moves back up his body.

All of that sounds spectacular. Louis wants those things too, but he also kind of wants Harry to keep touching him and talking to him like this.

“All you have to do is get up,” he smiles. Louis lies still and lets Harry continue to spoil him. “Come on, love. _The sun is up, the sky is blue...”_

“Wait. Is that…?”

Harry continues singing, his hands now joining in the assault to rouse him. _“It’s beautiful and so are you! Dear Louis, won’t you open up your eyes?_ ”

Louis has listened to Harry sing almost every night this summer but he swears this is his favorite performance.

“ _Fuck_. Did you just slip my name into my favorite song?” Louis groans. “You remembered me even telling you that?”

“Of course I did,” Harry says haughtily before smacking a kiss to Louis’ neglected lips. “I remember everything about you. Now, are you going to play nice and get the fuck out of this bed or am I going to have to pry you from it?”

He doesn’t know that he’s actually going to have to pry them _both_ from the bed because Louis’ dick is throbbing after that wake up call and he has no intention of leaving it any time soon. Louis doesn’t break the news to Harry that he’s not getting breakfast yet before pulling Harry back down to his level and wrapping his legs around him so he can’t escape.


	4. Chapter 4

They joked about spending the entirety of their break having sex, but Louis started to fear that they actually might after that first day featured nothing but room service and Harry’s giant bed. At some point Louis glanced out of their hotel window and was surprised to find that big round yellow thing in the sky had set without either one of them even realizing it.

The most troubling part of all that was that Louis wasn’t bothered by it in the slightest when he really probably should’ve been.

Things go better on the second day though. They’re much more productive. He and Harry wake up and actually get _out_ of the giant bed. They do have a shared shower to make up for having to go out into the real world, but Louis still counts it as progress because this shower doesn’t leave anybody in any physical pain like last time.

They go for a walk that leads them to a little place that serves waffles and pancakes all day _and_ has real mugs for the coffee that Harry whined about not getting yesterday. They sit down at a table with a checkered-print cloth and a tiny bouquet of wildflowers between them. The sun shines in on them where they’re sitting right in the storefront window, and all Louis can focus on is how nice the rays look caught up in his boyfriend’s hair.

Everything that Louis sees lately is beautiful and reminds him of Harry in some way. It sounds romantic, but it’s actually pretty concerning since Louis witnessed the man brushing his teeth about an hour ago. There wasn’t anything even remotely sexy or glamorous about it nor the toothpaste he got all over the mirror and yet Louis was enchanted.

Harry Styles has ruined him.

“You’re staring at me again,” Harry grins as he reads over his menu like he’s not going to order the tower of bacon and Nutella waffles that made him gasp when he saw them pictured on the poster outside the door.

“Of course I’m staring. There’s toothpaste on your face. What do you expect?” he lies.

Louis doesn’t tell him that he’s really been wishing they were back in bed since they got out of it. He just laughs when Harry instinctively wipes at his chin because they’ve known each other for months now and the idiot still falls for it.

“There’s nothing on me, is there?” he realizes too late as always. Louis’ eyes fall to the little round bruises that he sucked just beneath Harry’s jaw last night and smirks.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that.”

Harry grins and ducks his head when his fingers brush over the area that Louis’ staring at. When he meets Louis’ gaze again it’s heated like he’s remembering the exact moment that Louis put each of them on his skin.

“We are _not_ wasting the whole day in that hotel room again. I demand waffles and sunshine,” he says sounding incredibly stern for somebody who initiated as many rounds yesterday as Louis did. There are no innocent parties at this table for two.

“And afterwards?” Louis grins. “Then what do you want to do?” Louis is really hoping he demands something that involves them being naked.

“After breakfast I demand tourism and sight seeing. Liverpool is a lovely city. We should explore at least some of it. We could walk around a bit. Maybe take a boat ride?”

As much as Louis would like to be getting laid right now or at some point in the near future, taking a romantic boat ride with Harry sounds like it could run a very close second or third, _possibly_. It’s all contingent on whether or not Harry ends up getting wet at all. That automatically moves it up a couple of levels.

“I guess I could paddle under a bridge or two for you,” Louis sighs. It sounds like a blast.

“Great,” Harry smiles. “You’ll get in a boat for me and I can accidentally flip us over so we’ll have an excuse to hurry back to the hotel for you.”

“God, I love it when you make bullshit compromises just so I can see you naked.”

“The things we do for love,” Harry teases before ditching his menu and announcing that he wants whatever that thing is on the poster outside.

Louis should really start betting money on these kinds of things. He’d be a rich man in no time.

*

“After you.”

Louis tries not be overly affected by Harry holding the door open for him just like he tried not to smile too much at Harry helping him out of his chair like he’s elderly instead of just stuffed from eating so much grease.

Harry hasn’t stopped smiling for the past two days and Louis has yet to tire of seeing him look so happy.

“You’re staring. _Again_ ,” Harry sighs, looking more flattered by it than put out. He’s currently grinning even harder than Louis is.

“You’ve got something on your face. It looks like syrup.”

“Fuck off. I do not. I’m not falling for that again.”

Usually, Louis says there’s something on his face because it’s hilarious. Today, there is an honest to God smear of syrup at the corner of his mouth.

“Come here, love,” Louis laughs watching Harry pout because he can’t tell if Louis is fucking with him. Louis pulls him closer until they’re toe to toe and tilts Harry’s chin down to his level. It _is_ syrup, but it’s only a little bit. It’s gone as soon and Louis swipes his thumb over it. “See. Good as new. Now you’re back to being the embodiment of cleanliness and grace.”

Harry’s eyes briefly flash to his mouth after he thanks him. The gravity between them is so strong that Louis feels himself already rising up on his toes to meet him halfway, but he quickly remembers that they aren’t up in their hotel room or safely locked away on Harry’s tour bus.

He pokes Harry in his hidden dimple to soften the moment and make Harry grin, but Louis fantasizes about kissing it right off of him for the rest of the morning.

*

Contrary to what Harry said, he doesn’t actually flip their boat over into the water. He dragged Louis from shop to shop and even forced him on a two hour Beatles tour that Louis pretended to hate just to see the pure outrage on Harry’s face. He actually loved it.  By the time they got around to the boat ride, many of Harry’s fans had realized he was still in the city and decided to tag along for the rest of the day.

After shows, Louis is usually busy packing up all of Harry’s equipment and getting it back on the trucks. He doesn’t get to see the madness of his meet and greets that sometimes last hours because Harry hates disappointing the people who waited so long to see him. He’s heard about Harry making people’s days just by smiling at them or giving them a hug. Louis’ chest warms finally getting to see it in person.

He stands off to the side watching Harry pose for pictures and autograph whatever people stick under his nose for him to sign. He films little recordings for people who weren’t lucky enough to catch him out and about, and every one of his fans leaves with a giant smile like they’ve just spoken to a god.

The number of people who recognize him just keeps growing the longer he stands there. He spends so long talking with random fans that eventually Louis has to gently pull him away and remind him that this is technically his day off. Louis doesn’t make many friends by whisking the magnificent Harry Styles away, but it’s for Harry’s own good. He can be a superstar the day after tomorrow. Today, he’s just supposed to be himself.

All Louis wanted when they got up this morning was to be back in the hotel room. When they finally make it there he’s so exhausted that he collapses on the bed instead of enticingly arranging himself on it so Harry will ravage him.

He feels hands on his body, though not exactly the ravaging kind. The mattress dips to his right and when he turns his head Harry is there behind him, forcing him into position to be little spoon even though Louis was perfectly fine being a flat napkin, star-fished in the middle of the bed. Harry buries his nose into his hair, causing little goose bumps to rise just below Louis’ ear as he inhales.

“Is this your way of saying I’m short?” Louis mumbles when Harry wraps his arms tighter around him to make the little ball they’re curled in even smaller.

“No, I’m not calling you short,” Harry chuckles. Louis shivers from his skin prickling up with each puff of warm air against his neck. “I just like holding you. The fact that you’re smaller than me just makes it easier to do. We’re like puzzle pieces, you and me.”

Louis’ heart is melting. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it seeped right out of his chest and left a puddle on the bed.

Louis groans at the way his chest warms just from Harry dropping analogies out of nowhere. “ _Fuck_ , I am so in love with you,” he whines.

“I think that’s supposed to be a good thing,” Harry laughs, “Especially since the feeling is completely mutual.”

Louis can’t even fully appreciate his nap after that because the butterflies in his stomach won’t fucking let him sleep.

*

Louis’ phone has been off since Harry took the liberty of powering it down when their break started. He doesn’t even have to turn it back on to know that he and Harry have been missed because Niall, Sandy, and Josh come to Harry’s door later that night to tell them so, as well as to kidnap them for the pub night that lots of the crew who stuck around are attending.

They can’t stay in their little bubble forever, Louis guesses. Even though he really wouldn’t mind it.

“Isn’t hanging out with us _way_ better than hiding in that hotel room all night?”

Louis cuts his eyes over at his best friend because, no, it’s really not. However, it’s not Niall’s fault that he isn’t as beautiful and wonderful as his boyfriend. Niall also is not an option for mind-blowing sex, so that also plays a factor in this pub ranking way below hiding out in Harry’s room.

“I’m having a very nice time, Ni.” Louis says instead. “I think I actually started to miss you, if you can believe it.”

Niall scoffs after a quick sip of his beer. “Well, I guess so, being shoved up Harry’s arse for the past two days. Or vice versa,” he says thoughtfully. “I don’t want to assume.”

“So, first of all, I take back what I said about missing you,” Louis rolls his eyes. “And second, there’s nothing to assume. I have no idea what you’re insinuating.”

He thinks everyone on the crew would have to be fucking dead to not know that he and Harry are together, but everyone is also smart enough to not mention it. Harry isn’t out, and even if he were, when and how he decides to let people know about his relationship is totally up to him; _them_ , Louis guesses since he’s technically one-half of said relationship.

Niall blinks at him with a flat face. “Really? Suddenly, you don’t know what I mean?”

“Nope. Not a clue,” Louis shrugs.

“So that giant twenty-four count box of condoms you randomly bought the other day and is now mysteriously missing from the huge suitcase you left wide fucking open on your hotel bed is just coincidence? Good to know.”

“Alright, you’ve made your point. Shut up and drink your beer,” Louis grumbles.

“How much of that box have you two gone through anyway?” Niall laughs. “I’m equal parts fascinated and disgusted to know.”

Louis ignores his stupid question and his stupid smirk to stomp on his foot because he’s out of other ideas and his best friend is a dick.

“Who else knows?” Louis asks him, afraid that this is going to be one of those situations where Harry is the last to find out.

Niall stops laughing, finally getting serious once he looks at Louis and sees the very real concern there. “Obviously, some people know, but only _us_ ,” Niall says with a significant raise of his eyebrows. “So far it’s only the people who matter.”

He means only the members of staff who love Harry and want the best for him. Not the ones who sometimes use Harry and want what’s best for _them_. That particular group doesn’t deserve to know anything because they’re just going to judge him for it. They already watch Louis like a hawk every time he and Harry so much as speak to each other. If it were up to Louis, Harry’s management wouldn’t find out about them until his summer tour is over and they’re off living happily ever after together in London. There’s only a few months left of his tour so that date isn’t too far off.

Harry comes to find him later on after Niall hugs him, congratulates him, and then leaves him to go annoy somebody else. Harry sidles up next to Louis with bright eyes and a dimpled smile so lopsided that alcohol could be the only culprit.

“Look at you. The drunkest thing in the room as per usual,” Louis tutts, laughing when Harry curls himself into Louis’ arms to rest his head on his shoulder.

“I’m not drunk.”

“And I’m not gay. I’m glad we’re being so honest.” Louis fondly rolls his eyes when Harry cackles and everybody in the room looks in their direction. “You’re causing such a scene,” he laughs. Louis doesn’t care if their co-workers watch them, but they aren’t the only people here tonight. He tries to stand Harry up straight, but he holds onto him, burying his face in the crook of his neck instead. Louis gives up and just lets him stay there.

“Let’s go then,” he suggests. “Away from the scene.”

Harry _is_ the bloody scene. He’s so radiant that people are always going to notice him, but Louis doesn’t tell him that.

“Why, love? Aren’t you having fun?”

“Yes, I am, but I just want to be with you,” he whispers.

Coincidentally, that’s all Louis wants too.

Back at the hotel Louis has to clamp a hand over Harry’s mouth just to stop him and his loud laughter as they try to get into his room. His keycard is somewhere in his wallet but he doesn’t want to look for it so he makes Louis do it instead. Harry giggles the whole time he’s digging in his back pocket and only shuts up once the door swings open and Louis pulls him over the threshold.

Louis tries for the light switch, but Harry pushes him against the door before he can even reach it. He tastes like coconut rum and whatever else was in those blue drinks he kept tipping back. It’s delightful, especially since Louis tastes like alcohol too, but Harry had way more than him.

“You need water,” Louis mumbles against him when Harry’s surprisingly deft fingers start unzipping his jeans in the dark.

“I just need you.”

“That’s sweet, but my dick can’t stop you from being hungover tomorrow. That’s a water thing, I’m afraid.”

Harry tries to drop to his knees, but Louis pulls him right back up and tells him hydration first. Harry throws his head back with a bored sigh. He only complains about Louis mothering him with every step they take as Louis pulls him over to the desk near the window. Harry flops down in the open chair and makes a face when Louis hands him a fresh bottle of water from the mini-fridge.

“The whole thing?” He looks scandalized. Why Louis finds him being so difficult so fucking cute, he will never understand.

“Yes, the whole thing. Start chugging.”

Harry glares at Louis where he’s lying across the foot of the bed with his jeans wide open the way Harry left them. Louis props himself up on one elbow, watching as Harry forces the water down in big gulps.

“You’re being a tease.”

“I’m literally just lying here. I’m not doing anything,” Louis laughs. It turns into a yelp when Harry tosses his now empty bottle across the room and pounces on him.

They move to the middle of the bed and Harry resumes taking off his clothes. Louis lies back as Harry eagerly kisses down the insides of his thighs leaving the occasional bite mark in his wake. He expects to feel his mouth sucking him down him next, but Harry starts stroking him with his hand instead. It’s not as good as his mouth of course but it still feels amazing. Louis closes his eyes while Harry slowly brings him off, but they fly open again when Harry shifts below him and starts opening him up with his tongue.

“This is new,” Louis gasps, glancing down his chest to see only a mess of wavy dark hair.

“Is that a complaint?” he laughs against him. _Hell no_. That’s a hint for him to keep doing it because Harry is killing him. It’s a painful, slow process that burns in the best way until Louis can hardly even think straight anymore.

He’s a mess by the time Harry rolls on a condom and pushes inside of him. He lets Harry build him up and then pull him apart piece by piece. Harry puts him back together when they’re finished. Louis’ heart feels whole and happy when his arm gets tugged over Harry’s waist so he can be little spoon this time.

One could argue that he’s too fucking big for that shit and plus he’s freezing because he refuses to put on any clothes, but that just makes Louis want to cuddle him closer. Because, as it turns out, Louis loves holding him too.

*

For the past two days Louis has had the pleasure of waking up without the shrill sound of an alarm. Having Harry there to gently ease him into alertness instead has been a wonderful experience; nothing at all like the way he jerks awake at the sound of whatever idiot is outside beating on the door.

Louis eases himself out of bed, careful to leave the covers up around Harry’s shoulders because he never did put on any clothes and he’s curled up like he’s cold.

The banging on the door only gets louder and more impatient as Louis hurries to reach it. He snatches at the door handle ready to kill Niall or Josh or whoever it is who clearly has a death wish today, but neither of them is standing there in front of him.

It’s a woman with short blonde hair and a pair of brown eyes that bore into Louis with disdain the same way they always do. It’s his last day off. He doesn’t have anywhere to be right now or anything to do and yet Harry’s lead manager still turns her nose up at him like he’s done something wrong.

“What are you doing in this room? Yours is on another floor.” Her eyes rake over him and his lack of clothing. Louis glances down at his bare chest and feels self-conscious about standing in the middle of Harry’s doorway in his underwear, but only for a brief moment before his nerve returns.

“I like this room better,” Louis tells her without anymore explanation. “Is there something you need?” he asks kindly.

“Yes. My _client._ Where is he?”

Louis pulls the door to narrow the gap there when she tries looking past Louis into the room.

“He’s enjoying his last day off. Would you like me to give him a message?”

“Yeah. Tell him to turn on his bloody phone. We’ve been trying to call him all morning about a certain situation.” She says without a trace of kindness in her eyes when they fall on him again. Louis doesn’t know why he suddenly feels like he’s the situation she’s talking about. He hasn’t even done anything.

“Okay, fine. I’ll let him know you’re looking for him.” Louis doesn’t want to do anything she tells him to, but he’s been talking with her for almost three whole minutes and that’s two minutes over his limit. “Is that all?”

“Just give him the message,” she says before turning and leaving.

He doesn’t want anything or anybody ruining their morning, so Louis only returns to bed after forcing himself to take a deep breath. The major stick up her arse should have zero effect on his good mood.

“Who was that?” Harry asks when Louis slides back under the covers.

“Nobody important, love.”

Harry’s strong arms wrap around his waist and Louis immediately feels better.

“Are you and Niall bickering again?” he grins knowingly.

“No, we’re not. It wasn’t Niall.” Louis wishes it _had_ been Niall banging on the door. “It was one of your managers. The ‘blonde’ one,” Louis rolls his eyes. She’s not even a real blonde. Louis usually doesn’t find hair dye so offensive since his best friend is a great consumer of it, but Harry’s manager is an awful person. Louis’ going to judge her based on whatever he can see and her dark roots are free game.

“Chelsea came here?” Harry frowns. “That’s weird. What happened?”

“Well, she saw me answering your door half naked, so the cat’s out of that particular bag,” he tells him. “I’m so sorry, Haz. I thought it was one of the boys coming to annoy us.”

Harry goes quiet for a few moments, but otherwise takes the news much better than Louis thought. “No, Lou, that’s okay. Everyone else knows anyway. It was past time, I guess.”

“Yeah. I guess,” Louis echoes, but he doesn’t feel it in his heart. He mostly just feels guilty. Maybe he shouldn’t have answered the door.

“Did she say what she wanted?”

“I got the feeling that she’d appreciate me _not_ answering your door, but she also said that your team has been trying to contact you all morning. She claims there’s a _situation_.” Whatever the hell that means. “She backed off after I reminded her it’s your day off.”

Whatever it is can wait until tomorrow when they’re back at work, but Harry tenses up next to him like it can’t.

“I should call and check in,” he sighs.

“Haz, the beauty of today is the fact that you don’t _have_ to do anything.”

“Yeah, I know,” he grins. “I want to spend the day with you again. I want to do whatever you want today, but first I need to make sure everything else is okay.” Louis wants to protest again, but Harry drops a kiss to his forehead and is already out of bed before he can think of another good argument for him not to jump at Chelsea’s every beck and call.

He turns his phone on when he grabs it out of the bedside drawer that it’s been hiding in. Louis’ eyes widen listening to every missed alert from the past three days pouring in. “She called me seven times in less than an hour.”

“She should’ve gotten the hint after the first went unanswered,” Louis mumbles. He expects for Harry to laugh or at least smile, but he’s too busy dialing her back. Louis sits on the bed and listens to the only side of the conversation he’s able to hear since Harry didn’t put it on speaker. Harry isn’t giving much away from his facial expressions, but the serious and almost fearful tone of his voice doesn’t give Louis a good feeling.

“What’s going on?” he asks when Harry finally hangs up.

Harry hops up to dig his laptop out of his suitcase and Louis’ stomach fills with dread. Louis hasn’t looked at a phone or a television screen in days. Anything could’ve happened in that time frame and now he’s running through the list of horrible possibilities faster than his brain can handle this early in the morning.

“Apparently we were being photographed yesterday and now we’re all over the internet. I- I didn’t know. I didn’t even see anybody following us.”

“You’re famous,” Louis points out feeling like it needs to be said since everyone seems to have forgotten that key factor in this supposed ‘situation’.

Harry pulls up his email along with a never-ending list of links that Chelsea sent him hours ago. He clicks on the first one and it opens to a website that shows the two of them eating breakfast at the waffle place yesterday morning. There’s pictures of them talking and laughing just like everybody else who ate breakfast there, even _non-_ couples. The only picture that might raise some eyebrows is the one of them just outside the restaurant as they were leaving and Louis noticed that bit of syrup on Harry’s face. Louis will admit that they were standing very close together – _obviously,_ since Louis was wiping something off of his boyfriend’s _face_ – but they separated right after Louis cleaned him off.

Louis doesn’t really understand what the crisis is when he was very careful about not kissing Harry while he was in the public eye just like they used to do before everybody on the crew found out. They didn’t even hold hands. They simply ate and then walked beside each other down the street.

“Haz, you don’t need to worry about this. It’s not what it looks like,” Louis assures him as he scrolls through their entire day together including them on the water and coming back to the hotel after leaving the pub. Harry gives him a look of disbelief and scrolls back up to the syrup picture that does look a little Brokeback if Louis’ being honest. “Okay, maybe it’s exactly what it looks like in some of the pictures, but it’s not _definitive_ ,” he argues. These could be pictures of anybody; just two mates hanging out and having a good time. They don’t prove or disprove anything.

Harry shakes his head as he clicks through more of the links looking at the same pictures over and over again like they’re going to change. “I know, but that’s not what people are saying.”

Louis scoots closer to read the few eye-witness accounts from some fans Harry met yesterday. They mention the mysterious man who accompanied Harry yesterday and how the two of them interacted like more than just friends. There’s even a couple of fans who target Louis specifically because he was the one who convinced Harry to walk away after he’d already been posing for pictures for half an hour. He knew he didn’t make many friends by suggesting that Harry do what he’s supposed to be doing which is taking a break. Kind of like what he should be doing right this second instead of worrying about this bullshit.

“Where are you going?” Louis asks when Harry closes his laptop all of a sudden and starts getting dressed with out a word.

“I have to meet with my team. Chelsea said now so we can get ahead of this thing.”

“Wait- Ahead of _what_ thing?” Louis isn’t following. He’s too preoccupied watching Harry dart through the room. “It’s gossip. There’s nothing to ‘get ahead of’.” Harry doesn’t seem to agree. He doesn’t say anything at all actually which makes Louis feel like maybe he’s said or done something to upset him. “Are you mad at me for something?”

Harry stops trying to unwrinkle the shirt in his hands and looks at Louis with wide green eyes.

“No. No, Lou. Of course not. I love you.”

“Yes, I know that,” Louis says carefully, “But that’s not what I asked. You can be mad at people you love.” In Louis’ experience, those are the people who have the power to make you the angriest simply because you care for them so much.

Harry drops the shirt at the foot of the bed and comes to sit at Louis’ side wearing nothing but his jeans from last night. He holds Louis’ face in his hands and when they kiss it doesn’t _feel_ like Harry’s upset with him, but he’s not quite himself either. Louis can’t put his finger on what’s the matter.

“This is just a meeting that I have to go sit in and listen to. None of this is even remotely your fault. I’m not mad at you. I don’t think I ever could be, Lou. You’re perfect,” he whispers.

“Except I’m not. Nobody is.”

Harry fond rolls his eyes at him like that’s obvious. “I know, but you’re perfect to me anyway,” he whispers. “Even with your hair sticking up the way it is right now.”

“Prick.” Louis relaxes when Harry brings their lips together again, holding him steady to lick into his mouth. They slowly fall back onto the pillows and every worry Louis previously had gets swept away. _This_ is how they should’ve woken up today. This is what they should be doing for the next eighteen to twenty hours of their freedom if they so choose, but Harry pulls away after just a couple of minutes.

“Don’t say it,” Louis groans, squeezing his eyes shut like it’s going to help.

“I have to go, babe. I’m late already. I’m so sorry.”

He fucking said it.

Louis doesn’t want to accept his apology but he does it anyway. It’s not like he can really be annoyed for long with Harry’s regretful eyes and beautiful smile working their magic on him.

“Fine,” Louis sighs while fighting a grin. “Go if you must. When will you be back?”

“As soon as I can,” Harry promises. “I shouldn’t be gone more than an hour. Two at most.” Harry laughs at the way Louis rolls over to bury his face in the pillows. “I’ll be back in no time. I have an idea. Why don’t you order yourself some delicious breakfast and then when I get back we can spend the day doing whatever you want.”

“Can we throw Chelsea in the lake from yesterday?” The chastising look that Harry gives Louis when he pops his head up tells him that’s a hard _no_. “Fine. Whatever,” he sighs. “I’ll just be here in your giant bed, patiently awaiting your return like a good little wife.”

Harry leans over the giant bed after he grabs his wallet to press a quick kiss to his lips. “That’s all I ask,” he teases. “I’ll be back soon. I love you.”

Louis misses him as soon as the door shuts behind him.

This was not the way he imagined his last day off. He wanted to wake up in Harry’s arms and for them to make love all day and then for Harry to ask for his hand in marriage so they can have a quickie wedding before dinner in front of that little brick house with the cute garden that Paul McCartney grew up in according to their tour guide from yesterday.

He had all of these amazing (and highly improbable) things planned and now he’s lying in the middle of their sex sheets _alone_ because Harry had to go fix something that doesn’t even need fixing.

He’s not hungry enough to order room service yet and he’s too awake to try sleeping in. Boredom eventually drives him to reopen Harry’s laptop. He slowly scrolls through their pap pictures again. Louis’ not stupid. He understands Harry’s concern with them, but even if he and Louis don’t look strictly platonic while standing next to each other, there’s no denying that they look incredibly happy.

These pictures aren’t a problem. It’s the people who look at them and see even an ounce of something bad who are the problem. He just hopes Harry knows that too.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this is so late, but in my defense I did not anticipate this chapter being this long! Hopefully, it's worth it if you've been waiting for it :)

It feels like Louis’ been waiting for years when Harry finally comes back from his meeting that just couldn’t wait. He had said he’d be gone two hours at most, so Louis expects to hear the worst when he shows up fifty minutes past that. All Louis can assume is that it must not have gone well.

Louis doesn’t know if he’s more nervous for himself or for Harry about what exactly was said, but he will fight to protect Harry from Chelsea or anybody else who doesn’t have his best interests at heart.

Harry walks in and Louis feels the fight drain right out of him when he reveals that nothing major was said at all.

“ _Really_?”

“Yeah,” he grins victoriously. Harry kicks off his shoes and quickly climbs back into bed with him. He kisses Louis like he’s been gone for centuries, but Louis can’t relax into it like he wants to. Louis wants to know how the hell this ‘ _situation’_ went from priority one to Harry strolling in like the world has been lifted off his shoulders.

“Haz, you were gone forever. You had to have discussed _something_.”

Harry pauses once he hears how serious Louis is and realizes that he’s hardly even kissing him back. “Obviously, it came up,” Harry reveals. “That’s all we talked about for the majority of the time. They think my career could change drastically with speculation like this going on, but in the end what’s done is done,” he shrugs. “They just said to be more careful next time.”

“And what the hell does _that_ mean?” He and Harry _were_ careful. The only way they could’ve been more discreet is if they hadn’t gone out at all.

Harry fondly shakes his head at him and kisses his forehead. It doesn’t exactly have the calming effect that he was probably hoping for.

“Babe, calm down,” he laughs. “It means that everything is just fine; we’re fine and so is the tour and my career. They asked if I was serious about you…if this was just some fling or something I truly want. I told them that I’ve never been more serious about another person. You’re what I want. I love you, Louis, and they know that now. Everything’s out in the open. And it feels so fucking good. God, I wish I had done it sooner.”

Louis’ sure that it does feel really good.

Hiding who you are is never an easy thing. Although, in Louis’ experience, telling people who you really are generally isn’t easy either, especially with someone as controlling as Chelsea in the mix. Something about this doesn’t feel quite right, but Louis doesn’t say anything. How can he when Harry looks so happy and proud of himself for telling those people how he feels?

“Come here, love,” Louis grins. Harry moves eagerly to meet Louis in a kiss. “I am so incredibly proud of you,” he whispers.

And he is. Coming out to people is terrifying because you never know how they’ll react. Louis isn’t sure that everything is as okay as Harry claims, but either way, he did something truly amazing today while Louis hasn’t even gotten out of fucking bed. He deserves all the kisses that Louis can give.

*

Thanks to Harry speaking out and sticking up for himself, it’s like living in a whole new world when they finally go back to work. Louis had been dreading leaving their little bubble of happiness and privacy because outside of it his boyfriend is Harry Styles the superstar; he’s just as amazing as Harry Styles his boyfriend, except the famous version of him is viewed more as a straight line type rather than the very curved and very gay line that he actually walks.

It’s not like that anymore though. Everybody on the crew knows who he is, which now includes his management team. The rest of the world has yet to be given confirmation or denial on the matter, but Harry’s so happy being himself around his tour family that he doesn’t even care about their whispers.

Having to go back to only seeing each other a few times a day after having Harry all to himself for so long is hard, but nobody bats an eye when Louis runs off to the tour bus for his lunch breaks. Though, he and Harry still lock the door to keep from scarring any brave souls who dare wander inside on days they simply can’t stop touching each other.

Harry calls him up on stage during rehearsals under the ruse of having to tell him something important but when Louis gets there he plants a kiss on his cheek instead and says that he simply missed him. Louis instinctively glances around them every time to see if anybody is glaring. Surprisingly, they’re not. Most people don’t even pay them any attention anymore. At this point, he and Harry are pretty much old news but the few people who do still notice them offer them smiles of encouragement.

Louis doesn’t receive smiles from Chelsea. That doesn’t hurt his feelings in the slightest because she has always disliked him. That’s probably not going to change anytime soon, but as long as she treats Harry with kindness Louis doesn’t care how displeased her expression is when they shower each other with affection.

It’s been a week since their return back to work and Louis is already counting down the days until their next break because he knows without a doubt that he and Harry will spend it together. He can’t wait to spend another full day by Harry’s side, but things are still amazing between them even with the tour going on.

Everything feels almost perfect. It’s an unsettling realization that puts Louis slightly on edge because he knows that perfection doesn’t exist. Life changes constantly. He told Harry that himself a week ago. There’s no way to stop time or freeze it so they can keep this moment forever, but Louis really wishes that they could.

Even though things seem perfect, he feels like there’s something else going on; something that neither him or Harry can see coming. He realizes exactly what it is the day that Harry’s whole team shows up with a bright-eyed girl named Jordan who they practically shove under his nose. She’s introduced as a new rising star at the label and Louis is immediately suspicious about why Harry needed to be told this information in person. Apparently she’s going to be releasing her debut album in the spring which is great for her, but all Louis can focus on is how satisfied Chelsea looks when Harry offers to help her in any way that he can.

“You’re being paranoid again,” Harry chuckles that night after his show. They skipped late night pizza and traded it for room service and late night cuddling instead. Louis has been craving his touch since last night when they did the same thing, but this Jordan situation has been on Louis’ mind all day.

“Haz, I know you think I’m crazy…”

“Yep,” Harry teases. “Sure do.”

Except that Louis’ _not_.

“Harry, new people get signed to your label and management team all the time. No one else has ever been presented to you like some sort of… _gift_ ,” he frowns.

This girl is gorgeous and talented and looks like an uptight manager’s dream because she’s eager to do whatever she needs to in order to make it. Her coming into the picture right now is strange and oddly convenient and Louis can’t understand how Harry doesn’t see that. He just snorts again like Louis’ saying these things just to get a laugh.

“Babe, they wanted to introduce her to me because she’s just starting out,” he explains when he realizes that Louis is serious. “They asked me a while ago if I’d be interested in mentoring her a bit and I said yes. She’s not some evil ploy or anything like that, love. She just needs a friend. It’s not much fun being the new kid at school… or the record label in this case.”

Louis hears what he’s saying including the dumb joke he just tried and yet the whole thing still rubs him the wrong way.

“I just think there’s more to it than that,” he quietly disagrees.

Louis isn’t a performer. He doesn’t know anything about this industry so he doesn’t want to sit here and tell Harry that he is dead wrong. He could be paranoid just like Harry said, but Louis really doesn’t think he is.

Harry gives up arguing with him after a while and sighs. His eyes follow every move of Louis’ lips like all he wants to do is feel them pressed to his own.

“Are you going to kiss me at all or are we really going to spend all night talking about your weird conspiracy theories?” he pouts. “We didn’t get to see much of each other today.”

That’s because he was busy being charmed by his new tall, beautiful ‘ _friend_ ’, but Louis doesn’t say that.

Harry’s right. Nighttime is one of the few opportunities they get to spend completely alone with one another. They’ve wasted enough of their time focusing on other people he realizes.

“I missed you,” Louis tells him.

“Missed you more,” Harry whispers back. Louis focuses his attention on nothing but the feel of Harry next to him and the tenderness of their kiss when Harry pulls him closer. Pretty soon the world goes quiet and all that matters is them.

*

Harry’s schedule has always been pretty full during the day with interviews, photo shoots, and other random commitments sprinkled in that keep him busy. His free time has always been sparse, but these days he has even less of it to spare thanks to his management and his new mentee who apparently needs Harry to hold her hand through every little thing she encounters.

He’s never around much anymore except for rehearsals and show times, but lunch breaks remain Louis’ favorite part of day because even if Harry is away from the venue for the afternoon he always comes back to his tour bus just for him.

The fact that it has always been a constant is probably why it hurts so much the day that Harry doesn’t show up.

Louis climbs the steps of the bus and flops down on Harry’s bed with the order of burgers he’d picked up as soon as he was free to leave the loading area.

He’s there alone at the moment. He has beaten Harry here almost every day this week because he’s been scheduled away from camp. He’s probably just a couple of minutes away so Louis takes the liberty of scrolling through Netflix on his laptop to pick the movie that neither of them is going to be paying attention to.

He chooses Tangled simply to make Harry laugh because he cried at the end the first time they watched it. Louis kicks off his shoes, and settles down to wait him out like he did yesterday when Harry came strolling in ten minutes late and then spent the rest of the time slowly opening him up and fucking him to make up for it.

Louis’ stomach rumbles from the smell of their food. They usually get so distracted by each other that food comes second, he’s actually pretty hungry today. He doesn’t want to get started without Harry though. He should be here any minute. He can wait.

He checks his phone for the time after enough of it has passed that he starts getting antsy. It’s been way more than ten minutes so he had hoped there’d be a message there from Harry. Louis sends a quick text to him instead, first joking that he’s going to have to pull out all the stops this time to make up for being so late. He sends another more serious text after that just to make sure everything is alright. He doesn’t receive an answer to either which isn’t necessarily _strange_ , but it does make Louis question whether or not things really are okay.

He waits and waits and his phone just sits there, silent as ever displaying all of Louis’ outgoing messages and not a single one from his boyfriend. He decides to call a few minutes later, now worried that something serious has happened.

He hasn’t physically seen Harry since they stumbled out of his hotel bed at six a.m. He’d been gone all day yesterday with his schedule so full that he barely had time to breathe. Things have been pretty much the same today which is why Louis’ so anxious to see him and help him relax. However, Louis’ even more anxious to know that he’s okay.

He lies down and closes his eyes as he waits so that he isn’t just staring at the door hoping his boyfriend is about to walk through it. Louis will have to go back to work soon. They only get an hour for lunch and at this point, most of that time has already passed and Louis still hasn’t heard from him.

He doesn’t drift off like he had hoped, only making the fact that Harry hasn’t answered any of his texts or calls that much more obvious. He quits lying to himself that Harry’s going to make it when he realizes that he has less than ten minutes of his break left and he still hasn’t even eaten.

He unwraps the burger that is now cold and forces some of it down his throat even though he really isn’t hungry anymore with his stomach in so many knots.

Louis stuffs his feet back into his shoes once he’s finished and all he can think about is how wrong everything feels because for the first time, Harry isn’t kissing him and begging him to stay just a little while longer.  

He reaches for the door of the bus once he’s ready to leave but it swings open before his hand can make contact with the handle. Louis doesn’t know who he expected, but he blinks at his boyfriend, half-surprised to see him standing there at all.

“You’re okay,” he says dumbly. His brain catches onto the fact that Harry’s actually standing in front of him a few seconds later, panting like he just ran ten miles. “You’re here.”

The look in his eyes is pure regret when he closes the door behind him and holds Louis’ hands in his.

“Louis, I’m so sorry I’m late. I didn’t mean to be,” he apologizes. Late is an understatement.

“It’s fine. I mean, I was more worried than anything. I tried calling you a few times, but.” _But you wouldn’t answer;_ that’s the only thing Louis’ brain keeps screaming at him.

“I’m sorry for that too. I know you probably tried contacting me, but I didn’t have my phone. I gave it to Chelsea this morning at my photo shoot and then I met with Jordan right after and forgot to get it back. I still don’t even have it with me,” he says regrettably. “I caught a cab here by myself as soon as I realized what time it was. I promise you, babe, none of this was intentional.”

Harry grins at him in that way that usually stirs the butterflies in his stomach, but today it doesn’t work. There was a lot of information rolled into that quick explanation. He keeps replaying it in his head and all he hears is Chelsea and Jordan. Harry wasn’t held up because of some emergency or he was hurt. He didn’t come back for their standing lunch date because he was out with someone else. Knowing that just makes him feel worse. He wishes Harry hadn’t even told him. Now he just feels like an idiot for waiting around for him.

“Harry, why would you do that?”

“I know,” he sighs. “I usually hand off my phone to somebody so that it’s not in the way but I was so busy today that I forgot all about it. Chelsea must have forgotten that she had it too.”

“I’m not talking about the phone, Haz. I meant Jordan,” he clarifies. “You were with her.”

“ _Louis_ , please,” he begins, already sounding weary. “It’s not like she or I planned this or anything. She wanted to talk about some stuff so she met me after my photo shoot. We just lost track of time.” Harry says it like being stood up hurts less if it was a fluke.

“Well, _I_ didn’t,” Louis says. “This is the only time that I have off and I spent it all sitting here waiting for someone who forgot about me.”

Harry looks taken aback by his tone. He blinks down at their hands when he can no longer meet Louis’ eyes. He slides his hands up Louis’ arms until he’s able to gently cup his face. It feels like another apology like yesterday when Harry got here late and the first thing he did was kiss him. It’s like he’s trying to calm Louis through touch again and for the first time ever, Louis doesn’t want him to.

“Louis, are you- are you mad at me?” he asks when Louis pulls back from him. He looks so scared to hear a yes. Louis doesn’t know if he’s actually mad or not. Maybe he’s not angry at all and he’s just jealous that Harry chose Jordan over him, but mostly he just feels hurt.

“I have to go back to work,” he answers eventually, hating how much he just wants to be here with Harry right now and also how much he just doesn’t.

“You’re mad at me,” Harry concludes.

“No, not really,” Louis finally decides. Harry gives him a skeptical look. “Alright, fine. I guess I’m a little upset, but I’ll get over it,” he says when Harry’s face falls just from hearing confirmation that they’re on rocky ground.

Louis kisses him on the cheek before stepping around him because it feels wrong not to. He’d regret it the rest of the day if he didn’t at least do that. He probably won’t get to talk to Harry again until long after midnight.

“Lou. Louis, please,” Harry begs though Louis’ not sure why. He _has_ to go back to work. There’s no way around it. Niall will come drag him off this bus soon if he doesn’t.

“Harry, you know I can’t stay, but we’ll talk later, yeah?” He wishes they had time to sit down and talk about this now like he knows they should. It feels weird just leaving it like this until tonight, but they’re going to have to. “Good luck on stage. Love you,” he says, because even if he hated Harry, that would never change.  

Louis hurries down the steps of the bus and nearly runs into someone as soon as his feet hit the pavement. He glances up and then immediately wishes he hadn’t when he sees Chelsea standing there staring down her nose at Louis like always with Harry’s phone clutched tight in her right hand.

He wonders how long she’s had it. If she heard all of Louis’ calls and texts. If she realized that she had Harry’s phone hours ago and just didn’t say anything. She must have because someone’s calling him right now and it’s vibrating like mad.

“I was just going to return this. He took off pretty quickly just now,” she says when Louis meets her eyes again.

There are a million different things that Louis wants to say to her right now. Harry thinks he’s just looking for something to be suspicious about over her, but he’s not. He’s surprised when nothing but a quiet, ‘Excuse me’ comes out of his mouth as he walks around her.

He’s tired and he feels like shit right now. Being angry with her won’t make him feel any better and he and Harry are in a weird enough place as it is. He chooses the high road and just keeps walking. He’s late back to work anyway.

Niall opens his mouth like he’s about to start in on Louis for being late again, but he must see something in his expression that changes his mind because he asks Louis how he’s doing instead.

“I’m fine,” Louis says instinctively, only realizing that it’s a lie another two hours later when he stops working to go find his friend again because now he’s ready to talk. “Niall, do you think I’m crazy?”

He smirks at the opportunity Louis’ just presented him with but he doesn’t take it when he notices that Louis looks and sounds even less like himself than he did earlier.

“No, Lou. I don’t think you’re crazy,” he says honestly.

Louis doesn’t think he is either.

“Then why does Harry look at me like I’m insane when I say something’s not right. I can’t be the only one who sees that Chelsea is using Jordan. I don’t know what for exactly,” he frowns. “I just know that she is.”

Louis sees Niall’s hand move to palm his phone in his pocket. He’s being oddly quiet for someone who has an opinion about everything. “Have you had time to look at your phone lately?” he asks.

Louis thinks back to the last time he used it. It was right before Harry got back. “No. How long is lately?”

“Past few hours?” Niall shrugs. He takes a deep breath and releases it when Louis shakes his head no. “Louis, you’re not the only one who thinks something is up. You’re right to be suspicious.” Niall unlocks his phone and does a Google search of Harry’s name. All Louis can feel is his stomach turning when the screen fills with pictures of him and Jordan, like the two of them come as a pair or a boxed set.

There are pictures of them from today sitting in the courtyard of some restaurant, but also some from a few days ago of them in a cab and walking down the street.

His fans all think they look amazing together and Louis really can’t blame them for saying so. They’re both beautiful; Jordan with her green eyes and headful of dark brown curls that fall to her waist. Her smile is perfect and blinding and her bronze-colored skin is so rich that even Louis wants to touch it just to see if it’s as soft as it looks. She looks more like a super model than a singer, but then so does Harry because he’s just as gorgeous.

They look like the perfect couple sitting next to one another. It shouldn’t bother Louis because he knows that Harry isn’t interested in her like these people think, but it still hurts seeing him look so happy while having lunch with her when he was supposed to be here having lunch with him.

“If I say anything about these, he’s just going to say I’m being paranoid.”

Niall scoffs like Louis has every right to say whatever he wants.

“I don’t see Harry being called in for an emergency ‘situation’ because people think him and this girl are dating,” Niall says. That’s because in these pictures Harry looks straight and that’s exactly what his team wants. “You can say or not say whatever you want, but if Harry claims he doesn’t see what’s going on here then he’s either in on it or fucking blind.”

“What should I do? We’re already not on great terms at the moment.” Louis doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say to him. He and Harry just had their first ever fight a few hours ago. They didn’t get to resolve it and now Louis’ supposed to confront him and add this to their plate?

“The way I see it, there’s nothing you _can_ do,” Niall winces. “This is up to Harry. Either he tells his team to back off or he doesn’t and continues being Chelsea’s lapdog. You can’t make that decision for him, Lou.”

That’s exactly what he’s nervous about.

*

Louis stands at the side of the stage and watches his boyfriend perform for all the people who came here to see him. He’s amazing as always even though he isn’t quite as silly in-between songs as he usually is. He’s up there singing and smiling, but tonight he isn’t quite himself. Louis feels somewhat responsible because he knows their fight from earlier is probably the reason. Louis will be the reason again later tonight when he pushes them out of one spat right into another. He wishes they could just go back to the way things were before all of this mess started.

It’s already past two in the morning when Harry answers his hotel door in a pair of joggers and one of Louis’ old t-shirts that accidentally got mixed in with Harry’s things. His hair is damp from his shower, making him look a little droopy where he’s leaning against the threshold, but he’s wearing a hopeful grin just from Louis knocking on his door that brings new light to his face.  

“You came.”

“Of course, Haz,” Louis whispers. “Where else would I be?” He hasn’t slept in his own assigned room in weeks. He mostly uses them to store his big suitcases.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I figured you’d be somewhere still pissed at me,” he tries to joke. It falls a little flat when Louis drops his gaze. He isn’t really in the joking mood. “Sorry. Would you like to come in?”

He asks like he’s unsure if Louis will actually say yes and it feels so strange. If this were last week, or hell, even just last night, Harry would’ve already yanked him into the room by his waist and Louis’ heart would be racing just trying to keep up. He doesn’t know what they’re doing.

Louis steps inside and Harry tries to cut through some of the tension in the air with a soft kiss. Harry leans down to connect their mouths and just the taste of him is like a breath of fresh air. Louis sighs into him when Harry deepens their kiss with each slide of his tongue. His strong hands fall into place along his hips and his waist to hold him still. Louis’ pulse kicks up a few levels when Harry’s tall frame completely eclipses Louis’ as he grinds his hips into him. It feels so good and so familiar that Louis almost forgets the whole reason why things were so weird before.

“Haz. Haz, we should slow down. We need to talk first,” he breathes.

“No, let’s not,” he whines, “Things finally feel _right_. Let’s not ruin it.” He forces the hem of Louis’ shirt up and starts undoing his jeans but Louis doesn’t let him get far with it.

“This isn’t right at all, Harry. This is just us ignoring the problem. We can’t just pretend like nothing’s wrong every time we fight or have a disagreement about something.” If they have sex right now things are going to be just as weird after they’re done. This day has already felt unbearable just knowing that they’re not okay; Louis can’t go through another one like that.

Harry’s frantic hands still. He swears to himself, his beautiful eyes trained on Louis like all he wants is for things to go back to the way they were too.

His lips linger on Louis’ forehead when he kisses him there and then he carefully fixes Louis’ clothing that he was so eager to take off just seconds ago.

“You’re right,” he whispers apologetically. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t listening to you. I’m ready now though. Let’s talk about what happened on the bus.”

“Okay…and also about what happened before the bus,” Louis adds. “With Jordan.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry’s brow furrows and already Louis can tell that this isn’t going to be an easy talk to get through. They may be here for a while.

Louis sighs heavily as he pushes away from the door.

He walks further into Harry’s room and takes a seat at the foot of the bed. Harry carefully sits down next to him, giving Louis just enough space to breathe in a few times and muster the courage to talk about this.

“…Did you know you’re all over the internet?” he asks first thing, because it seems like the easiest place to start. He nervously turns his phone over in his hands the same way he’s been doing ever since Niall showed him people’s reactions to those pictures. “You have been all day. It’s all anybody can talk about.” Louis tells him.

Harry frowns at him again, now looking even more confused.

“No, I didn’t know,” he says carefully. “I haven’t really had time to think about that kind of stuff today. I woke up this morning and I’ve been going nonstop all day. I was on stage tonight and I met with fans right after…” he explains. “Why? What’s going on? Chelsea hasn’t said anything. Why am I all over the internet?”

“Because according to a bunch of secret sources somewhere, you have a new girlfriend.” Louis hates saying the words. He hates unlocking his phone to show Harry the pictures even more. They’re still up from earlier tonight when Louis kept scrolling through them feeling like an idiot for being jealous and hurt over something that doesn’t have a bit of truth to it. Harry looks at the photos and articles and then at Louis who wishes they would just disappear. It’d make his life a lot easier if they would.

“Babe, you know none of this is true, right? This is just dumb gossip.” He breathes a little laugh to himself but stops when Louis doesn’t follow suit.

“It wasn’t just dumb gossip when it was you and me.”

The smile falls off of Harry’s face at that. “Louis. Come on, love. You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he apologizes. It doesn’t how matter how Harry meant it when the message that his management is trying to send is loud and clear.

“When it was us photographed together like this, it was a crisis situation,” Louis continues. “Chelsea wouldn’t even let you have your bloody day off because the thought of people assuming you’re gay, which by the way, you _are_ , was such a gigantic deal. I don’t see anybody rushing to deny people’s claims about thinking you’re straight or telling you and Jordan to be more discreet.”

Harry is quiet for a long time as he scrolls through the last of the pictures. He puts Louis’ phone down and shakes his head like he still doesn’t understand why Louis looks so concerned.

“So… what then? Are you mad at me because you think I want to be with Jordan? You shouldn’t need me to tell you that I don’t.”

“I’m not mad at you at all, Haz. And I know you’re not interested in Jordan either. What I’m saying is I think you’re letting people use you and it’s not right.”

“Louis, no one is using me,” he says like the idea is preposterous. “You’ve been to every one of my shows this summer. You see the people who buy my music. Chelsea is right. They buy my albums and they come to see me because of who they _think_ I am. If that changes…”

Louis pulls his hand into his lap and squeezes it. “They’ll still be right there in the crowds cheering you on because they love you,” he finishes for him.

Harry’s fans are loyal to him for more than just his looks and the persona that his team has spent years trying to maintain. His fans see him and they see the same talented, wonderful person that he’s always been. Chelsea is wrong, but obviously Harry doesn’t think so.

“Their interest in me is tied directly to my potential interest in them. Nobody is going to want to listen to my songs anymore when they realize I’m picturing men when I sing them. My music only sells and my career only works if my fans feel as though I’m singing directly to them.”

“I listened to your songs when I thought you were straight and loved them anyway,” Louis says. “I didn’t know anything about your sexuality but I heard you on the radio and it didn’t make a difference to me. It won’t make a difference to them either because who you love and who you choose to sing about doesn’t matter.”

“Except it _does_ ,” Harry snaps. “It’d be really nice if things worked the way you said in the music world, Louis, but they don’t. Do you know _why_ you even heard my songs on the radio all those years ago? Because my new management team helped me get signed to a label who actually gave me a chance. I had other managers before who didn’t get me anywhere. Nobody gave a shit about me or my music before Chelsea and everybody else came along, so when they tell me that my private life is better left in private, I fucking listen and heed their advice.”

Harry goes quiet after that, taking a couple of deep breaths before he starts again in a much softer tone this time.

“Jordan is just starting out, Lou. She needs the exposure that I can give her and I need the protection that she can give me. It’s a win-win situation for everybody.”

“Yeah, for everybody _except_ you and me.”

Louis can’t believe that this is what their night has come to; him telling his boyfriend that he’s worth more than he thinks; that _they_ are worth more.

“Harry, I understand what you’re saying, but this is bullshit. You don’t have to listen to a single word that your team says. They just like all the money you bring in. And you can let Jordan work hard and make it for herself just like you had to when you started in this industry. They all need you, Harry. Not the other way around.”

“Do you want me to just stop talking to Jordan then? To just not be friends with her anymore? Would that make you happy?”

It sounds a lot like _will that get you off my back_? Harry still doesn’t get it, and Louis’ going to scream if Harry raises an eyebrow at him again like _he’s_ the crazy one here.

“It’s not about Jordan,” Louis says in a measured voice.

“Then what’s it about Louis? You and I have never walked down the street hand in hand or kissed outside of hotels. You’ve never had a problem with me not disclosing my sexuality to the public before. Why is it suddenly so important to you now?”

“Because before I thought we were keeping our relationship secret because you weren’t ready to be out. Now, I see that you’re hiding behind your management team and people like Jordan because you’re scared of what? Losing  _album sales_? And somehow I let you drag _me_ into it. I love you, Harry, and I will support you though anything, but not this.” Louis doesn’t want any part of this if it involves lying about who Harry is simply because Chelsea thinks his fans are shallow. These are their _lives_ that Harry is being so flippant about. Maybe Louis was getting ahead of himself by thinking of them as long-term, but he had pretty grand plans of them being together forever. Does Harry really expect them to hide for that long?

“You have no idea how much I wish I could do what it is you’re asking me to,” Harry sighs. “But, Louis, I can’t.”

“Why not?” Louis scoffs. “Because I’m the only person who _isn’t_ using you?”

Harry makes a face like that hurt him worse than the rest of this whole conversation.

He quietly rests his head on Louis’ shoulder lets out long, pent up breath. He burrows his nose into the crook of his neck to breathe him in the way he always does when he’s exhausted and just ready to lie down with Louis in his arms.

“Babe, it’s late,” he whispers against his skin. “We’re obviously not going to solve any of this tonight so lets just go to sleep. We can talk about it again some other time if you want.” Harry tries kissing him and coaxing him up to the pillows, but Louis doesn’t move. “Come on, love. Please?” It takes every ounce of willpower Louis has to resist the pull of those big green eyes.

If Louis goes with him tonight they’ll be ignoring this problem forever. Harry’s never going to want to bring it back up and even if they ever do reopen it, it’s not like Harry’s going to change his mind or stop defending the choices his team makes. This is a dead end road and Louis’ heart is breaking inside of his chest knowing what he needs to say right now. The words are caught in a ball that feels too big to even travel up his throat. When he finally pushes them out, Harry’s breath catches next to him like Louis just landed a punch to his ribcage.

“I- I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Harry.”

Harry blinks at him with a furrowed brow. “What isn’t a good idea?” he asks slowly.

“Me staying here tonight…” Or any night really. Not until this is fixed. Pretending like everything is okay is only going to send mixed messages when Louis’ opinion and position on this are crystal clear. He’s not going to be with somebody who’s ashamed of who they are or of him, even if he does love that person more than words can even express.

“Louis, please,” he closes his eyes. “Please, don’t do this.”

It’s not like he fucking _wants_ to.

“Are you going to feel any differently about forcing me to lie for you when we wake up tomorrow or the day after that?” he asks softly. He already knows the answer is no. It’s only confirmed when Harry says nothing in response. “Then I have to,” he chokes out.

It feels likes somebody else who stands up from the bed and turns his back on Harry when he begs Louis not to go. He loses a little more of his nerve with each step that he takes. He tries not to listen when Harry’s voice breaks because it just puts more holes in the fragile walls he’s trying to build up around his heart.

Louis’ crying by the time he makes it out the door and shuts it behind himself. When he came here tonight it was just to have an honest talk with his boyfriend. He never imagined in his wildest dreams that he’d be leaving this room without one. Even just thinking about it is overwhelming and nearly sends Louis running right back inside to where Harry is. He forces himself to keep walking though, straight to the lifts and up to the shared room that he had no intention of sleeping in tonight until just now.

Niall sighs aloud when Louis comes in and curls up on the bed that’s still perfectly made. He lies there trying not to make noises as he cries, but he can’t help some escaping and Niall hears him anyway.

Louis doesn’t know how long he lies there struggling to breathe until he feels his best friend carefully lie down next to him.

“What happened?” he asks. He squeezes Louis’ arm and that’s all it takes for Louis’ sobs to break free. He doesn’t answer Niall. He can’t. He just curls up in his embrace like he’s Harry even though he’s not even close. Niall holds him and rubs his back until he cries himself to sleep. The last thing Louis hears before he’s gone is his best friend telling him that he doesn’t need Harry, but it’s a lie. The fact that Louis’ currently falling apart at three in the morning is proof that he does.

*

Niall wakes him up the next morning and Louis blinks in confusion for several seconds wondering why Harry isn’t the one telling him that it’s time to go.

It doesn’t take very long for it all to come flooding back to him once he realizes how heavy his swollen eyes are and how much he just wants to go back to sleep so he doesn’t have to relive last night from memory.

He grabs his things that Niall thankfully packed for him and heads down to the van. Mary looks at him in surprise when he’s the first one there. Usually he’s too busy kissing Harry just one more time over and over again to make it here on time. Her smile disappears when she notices how awful he looks.

“What’s happened?” she asks.

Louis figures he’ll be asked that question a lot today so he decides to get in his practice time now with convincing everybody that he’s just fine even though his chest is aching.

“Nothing,” he grins. “Just had a long night. I’m alright.”

Mary doesn’t look very convinced as she watches him climb to the back seat in the rearview mirror, so Louis can only assume that means he’s a shit actor. Figures.

*

Louis never realized how much of his day was filled up with Harry until he has to start spending everyday without him.

He sleeps in the room that’s assigned to him at night rather that be with Josh or with Niall. In the mornings he gets up and heads straight to the van or he immediately starts working if they’ve stayed in one city for two nights in a row. He keeps his head down and doesn’t really talk to anybody, mostly because he knows they’re all worried about him and he doesn’t know what to say. Lunch breaks are the hardest because most days Harry stays away from camp, but sometimes he comes back to his tour bus to eat there instead. Every time Louis sees him walk up those steps his body longs to follow him.

Louis used to count down the hours until he’d get to lock himself away with Harry on that bus and now he eats by himself and counts down the minutes until he can get back to work to drown out the images of the way they used to be.  

Harry is just as quiet when Louis sees him around. He tries to meet Louis’ gaze at rehearsals, but Louis does his best to look anywhere else as he sets up the stage. They don’t text anymore. Harry quit trying after the first three days when he realized Louis isn’t going to answer, so besides Niall and other people checking in on him every couple of hours, Louis spends his days in silence.

That only lasts until show time though. Once the doors open and Harry gets up on that stage there’s no hiding from him or the way his music still makes Louis feel. He had once thought about taking a cab to their hotel to wait out his performance, but it’d be such a wasted trip because he’d have to come right back to the venue as soon as he got there. He locks himself in the van each night instead even though he can still hear the music creeping in as it pours out of the arena. That sucks, but he can’t physically see Harry performing from outside the building, so that’s what makes the van such an appealing option.

He doesn’t know for sure how Harry’s doing or how he now spends his days, but he sees it on the internet every night even after he swears to himself that he won’t look. He sees pictures of Harry coming out of interviews and going into nice restaurants with his alleged girlfriend Jordan by his side. She comes to their camp every now and then. The two of them even went to a label sponsored party in one of the cites Harry played, which wouldn’t have necessarily been a big deal except they arrived and left together so naturally, the whole world is abuzz.

The media is so convincing that Louis doesn’t even know if she’s his alleged girlfriend anymore or his real one. No one has yet to confirm or deny their relationship but Louis doesn’t put it past Harry to have made it official even with how miserable he looks while standing next to her. He’s dated lots of women in the past. With Louis out of the picture, there’s no reason why he wouldn’t start again. Louis just tries not to think about it.

His plan for survival for the rest of this tour is simply to make it to the end. This job was the best thing that ever happened to him when he took it and now he just anxiously stares at the calendar on his phone because things have been so hard.

He almost sticks to his plan of making it to the end until the night Chelsea catches him sneaking off to the van once Harry’s set starts. He sees her in one of the corridors leading to the back of the building. Louis keeps walking, trying to get as far away from the music as he can. He stops just as they pass each other because for the first time ever, there’s a big smile on her face. She wishes Louis a good night and it sends a chill down his arms because it sounds like she actually means it.

Chelsea hated him. From the moment he and Harry said hello she has wanted him gone. There’s a whole month left of Harry’s tour and that means a whole month of seeing her and her smug face because she won and got what she wanted. He and Harry are no longer together. They don’t even speak anymore. People think he’s with Jordan now and apparently the victory of that is so sweet that she can muster up a genuine smile and aim it towards Louis of all people.    

He can’t do this for another month. He can’t continue avoiding Harry and now Chelsea as well when he’s already barely hanging on as it is. He hates the thought of quitting a job that had once given him so much happiness, but staying is likely to wreck him completely.

*

He tells Niall that night in their room that he’s leaving at the end of the week. That’ll give him time to find a replacement and it’ll give Louis time to get himself sorted to head back home. Niall hugs him like he doesn’t want to think about him no longer working here, but he tells Louis that he doesn’t blame him for needing to get out.

“What are you going to do instead?” he asks.

Louis doesn’t know. Preferably something that doesn’t make him want to cry every day.

“I had my fingers crossed for Starbucks before you dragged me way out here,” Louis grins. “I can always try that out again.”

Niall grins but doesn’t laugh at his joke. Louis doesn’t expect him to. It was awful.

“I’m sorry things ended this way,” he says. “If I’d known back when I first told you about this job…”

Louis still would’ve taken it. Even if he knew it would hurt this bad, he wouldn’t give up getting the chance to fall in love with Harry. Only a mad man would.

The end of the week comes a lot quicker than Louis would’ve guessed with him still trying to be invisible while he’s at work. He assumes someone must’ve told Harry that he’s leaving because he feels his gaze on him even more than before. Even rehearsals become too much for him so he starts making up excuses to leave and go sit in the van where Harry’s burning gaze can’t follow him.

He spends all of Friday saying his goodbyes as he works so he can leave tonight and not be held up with thanking everybody for being so great to him. He glances over at Harry’s tour bus during his lunch break in the back of the van. He hasn’t seen Harry all day but he knows Harry’s at the venue today because his rehearsals have been running longer. He hasn’t been leaving camp lately. Louis knows that because he hasn’t been papped in the last few days. And _yes_ , he knows how pathetic he is for using gossip sites to see how Harry’s doing. There’s no telling if he’s on his bus or not. Louis nearly chokes on a piece of lettuce when he sees Harry step down from it and start to walk straight towards him.

Louis isn’t ready for this. He hadn’t planned to _ever_ be ready really. He was just going to leave tonight and avoid having to say goodbye to Harry altogether, but now he’s here and knocking on the front window of the van. As much as Louis would like to be, he isn’t actually invisible. He can’t pretend like he’s not there when Harry’s looking right at him in the back seat.

He stands and stretches forward until he can reach the button to unlock the door on the passenger’s side. Louis sits back down where he was in the back as Harry climbs in. He sits on the first row awkwardly biting at his lip. He looks different. His energy is different too. Kind of like he is when he hasn’t been sleeping very well. His eyes are tired, but they’re still as beautiful as ever. Louis blinks down at his lap to keep from staring at them too long.

“So, I uh, I thought I might find you here.” He grins though it doesn’t look very genuine. Louis has seen and memorized every glorious version of Harry’s smile. This one doesn’t make Louis’ stomach flutter, it just makes him sad instead because it used to be so incredibly bright every time Harry looked at him.

They just stare at each other for a long time. Louis doesn’t know what the protocol for this is. What is he supposed to say to the man he still loves but can’t be with because it goes against everything he stands for?

Harry speaks up again when more than a few beats have passed without Louis saying a word. “You’re leaving tonight.”

It’s not even a question. Obviously he’s heard from somebody. Probably everybody. Chelsea probably told him herself and then popped a bottle of champagne to celebrate. Maybe Jordan provided the glasses.

“Yeah, I am,” Louis answers. “After set up. There’s no point in me staying in the hotel tonight when I’m not even traveling with you guys tomorrow, so.” Harry drops his gaze.

“I can’t believe you’re really leaving.” Harry lets out a slow breath, but nods like he completely gets it. “Well, will you do me a favor before you go?” he asks, meeting his eyes again.

Louis is wary about the answer he gives. He doesn’t want to leave Harry as it is. If he says yes to that question and Harry does something random like asking him to change his mind he may just do it even though he knows it’s a horrible idea.

“What is it?” Louis asks.

“Will you at least come to the show tonight?” Louis releases the breath he was holding. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but that wasn’t it. “I know you don’t really watch anymore… I see you when you sneak out, but um…there’s a song we’ve been working on this week that I’d really like for you to hear. It’d mean a lot to me.”

Louis didn’t think he could speak to Harry again without falling right back into his arms at the first quirk of his grin, but he’s done it now for five whole minutes and surprisingly he’s still alive. Watching him on stage is going to be hard, but maybe that’s not impossible either.

“Okay. I will,” he answers, feeling like he should really tack on a quick ‘ _I’ll try’_ because he can’t make any promises.

Harry grins this time and it’s real. So real that Louis’ breath catches from the butterflies that awaken in his stomach when Harry thanks him. They’re still fluttering around in there even long after Harry is gone.

Louis can’t even finish eating his salad; how the hell is he going make it through an entire show?

*

The first time Louis ever stood at the side of the stage to watch Harry perform he remembers thinking that there was no better feeling in the world. Since then Louis has heard Harry cackle at his own jokes and he’s had the honor of kissing his lips. He has been Harry’s best friend, Louis has loved him with his entire heart, and all of those things still run a close second to the rush Louis feels when the fans start pouring in. Their energy is just as high as Louis’ and they didn’t even speak to Harry this afternoon like Louis did. Their cheers and pleads for Harry to come out on stage only make Louis more anxious to have to see him again.

His openers play first and during that time Louis tries to prepare himself for what’s coming even though it’s never worked before when it comes to Harry. There is no way humanly possible to prepare for someone like Harry Styles, but he keeps trying anyway.

Once the openers are done, the crew has to go back onstage to make sure everything is ready for the main act. The moment they finish checking everything is usually the moment that Louis hits the door, but tonight he follows everybody else down to the crew section and tells himself that he can do this.

A familiar giant timer appears on the screen when the lights go down one last time and the room gets so loud that Louis briefly covers his ears. This is one of the largest crowds Harry’s played for since the start of the tour, and it feels like every single person in the arena screams at once when Harry finally steps out onto the stage.

Louis hates how just the sight of him puts an instant smile on his face like he hasn’t seen this show a billion times and doesn’t know that there’s a hidden grease stain on those jean he’s wearing because Harry eats like a grizzly bear after performances and refuses to use a napkin. This is the last time Louis will get to see him like this and feel every word he’s singing like only a live performance can allow. He tries to commit every part of tonight to memory from Harry’s off-beat dancing to the way he looks out at the crowd and makes everybody feel as though he’s smiling right at them.

Watching him isn’t as difficult as Louis thought it would be, because it’s almost impossible to not be in awe of him and his presence. It helps that stage Harry is different from the one that Louis has come to know and love over the summer, but the fact still remains that this Harry also represents a lie that Louis just can’t be part of.

Harry finishes the last song on his set list and the crowd immediately starts begging him for more songs like they do every night. They normally leave slightly disappointed because Harry and his band exit the stage soon after, but tonight the crowd roars when Harry politely asks them to quiet it down so he can sing one more.

This it is; whatever it is that Harry wanted him to hear and Louis’ hardly breathing wondering what it is. He grabs Niall’s hand next to him when Harry starts talking to the room at large.

“I believe that music has the power to touch our souls and open up our minds as well as our hearts,” he begins. “I think music also has the power to speak for us even when we don’t have the words to say something ourselves. Even if that something is as simple as an apology.” Everybody cheers for him and Harry takes a deep breath to compose himself. Louis’ never seen him so nervous before. “I chose this song to sing tonight because I have something to say to someone. It’s not a song that I wrote, but I wish that I had because this person deserved to hear these words a long time ago. I just couldn’t say them.”

Niall’s fingers twitch from how tight of a grip Louis has on his hand when the band starts the familiar slow intro to a song that Louis’ heard a million times before but can’t place just yet. Harry’s voice drifts in for the first line, so full of emotion and clear that Louis starts to sing along and realizes in an instant that it’s Hoobastank. This song is among some of the other stolen ones in Louis’ phone and it also happens to be one that he loves a lot. Maybe even more so now that his favorite singer is covering it.

‘ _I’m not a perfect person. There’s many things I wish I didn’t do,’_ rings out from the speakers surrounding the room and Louis can feel every syllable vibrating through his chest.

When Harry said he was going to sing something special, Louis didn’t think it was going to be something specifically for him. The words make Louis feel things that he hadn’t expected going into this. He didn’t want to think about the night that he walked out, but it’s hard not to with Harry telling the world how much he regrets pushing Louis to do it.

With Harry singing about how he didn’t mean to hurt him and how he wishes he could take away all the pain he caused, Louis’ throat becomes so tight that he can barely breathe through the rest of the song. The chorus is the worst bit. Harry’s voice echoing throughout the room about one day changing who he used to be only makes Louis feel sad because he knows that isn’t going to happen.

Louis may the reason for a lot of things, but unfortunately getting Harry to accept himself and them as a couple wasn’t one of them. He really wishes that it had been.  

Harry holds the note for the last ‘ _And the reason is you_ ,’ and Louis finally lets go of Niall’s hand and the silent tears that he’d been trying to hold back.

That song is amazing. Louis can never listen to the original again because this version will always be more beautiful. It wasn’t a literal interpretation. Like Harry said, he didn’t write the song, but Louis appreciates the apology. Louis needed that because at least now when he thinks about Harry he’ll know that he still has a friend if nothing else.

The music for _The Reason_ fades out and Harry quickly starts introducing a new cover. He dedicates this one to another person; to someone very special to him in the crowd and everybody erupts into excited cheers and starts chanting for Jordan to come up on stage.

Louis made it through the show to the song that Harry sang for him, but Jordan wasn’t part of the deal. He can’t stick around to watch Harry serenade his girlfriend right in front of him. He hasn’t seen Jordan around in forever. Louis didn’t even realize she was here tonight.

Louis wipes his eyes again and then turns to wrap Niall in a big hug when he hears the band resetting. “I’m going to go. Love you. Thank you for everything. Come treat me to lunch again once you’re done with the tour,” he teases.

Niall nods and promises to do just that, but he doesn’t let Louis take off like he wants, holding Louis right there in front of him.

“You should stay.”

Louis shakes his head, throwing a quick glance to the stage to see if Jordan has made her way up there. She hasn’t yet, but it’s only a matter of time before she does.

“No, Ni. I can’t. Really. Knowing she’s here is one thing but seeing her up there with him?” That’s more than Louis is capable of right now, even if she and Harry aren’t really together. He’s better off just leaving now with the apology Harry just gave him.

“Louis. _Lou!_ ” Niall yells over the crowd to bring his attention back to him and away from the stage and the bright lights that Harry’s still standing under alone. “She’s not here. Harry’s talking about _you,_ you idiot.”

That doesn’t make any sense and the playful slap that Niall lands on his cheek doesn’t hurt, but Louis’ mouth hangs open anyway from shock. Louis glances up at Harry who’s looking right at him and motioning for him to come up. Louis gives him several firm shakes of his head in a silent _hell no._

Harry turns his head away from the mic to laugh, but he doesn’t seem too surprised that Louis refuses to move. He addresses the screaming crowd, calming them once more so he can speak.

“So, the very special someone I mentioned is choosing this moment to suddenly be very shy, so I’m just going to sing anyway and hope they’ll reconsider coming up once they hear it?”

Louis has no idea what is going on when the band starts up with another slow intro.

This song is even more familiar to him than the last. It’s _Dear Prudence_ , the song Louis said himself is pure magic. The crowd screams because it’s a Beatles cover, Louis nearly screams because he can’t believe Harry is actually doing this.

He is not going up on that stage no matter how good Harry’s voice sounds coming over the speakers or how much the melody just makes him want to smile. He’s _not_. He keeps telling himself that, but the more Harry grins at him from stage the more he wants nothing more than to walk up there and punch him for being such a little shit or maybe even kiss him.

He groans and squeezes his eyes shut when Harry gets to the chorus. When he opens them again Niall and everybody else on the crew is laughing because he looks so gleefully torn about what to do.

“Just go!” Niall tells him. “You know you’re going to anyway.”

Standing on stage in front of twelve-thousand people was not on his list of things to do tonight, but Louis starts walking regardless. Everyone moves for him. Josh even helps him hop over the railing of their section so he can avoid the exit gate where Chelsea is standing with her sour expression back in place.

He feels ridiculous climbing the steps to the stage, but the bridge of the song building makes him feel less crazy for grinning like an idiot once he reaches Harry and he starts serenading him just like he fantasized all those months ago. ‘ _The sun is up, the sky is blue, it’s beautiful, and so are you! Dear Louis…’_ Louis blushes just as hard as he did the morning that Harry first sang this to him. _‘Won’t you let me see you smile?’_

“I _am_ smiling,” Louis says when Harry steps away from the mic to face him. The band keeps playing and the crowd keeps singing but all Louis can focus on is how disgustingly sweaty Harry is and the way the spotlights reflect in his eyes

“I know you are! That’s a good thing!” he laughs over the noise.

“I wasn’t going to come up,” Louis admits. “I thought your girlfriend was here…”

Harry shakes his head as he cups Louis’ cheeks in both hands. “She’s not my girlfriend, and now everybody is going to know,” he says just before crashing their lips together.

Louis thought it was loud in the arena before when Harry first arrived and he thought the same thing again when he started playing covers, but that was nothing compared to the almighty roar his fans make as Harry kisses him. People aren’t even singing anymore. They’re too busy staring and most likely talking about them, but Louis doesn’t care. He’s missed this feeling so much. All he wanted was for Harry to be honest and this kiss is the most honest and intimate thing they’ve ever shared…in front of twelve-thousand people.

The song ends long before their lips part, but when they do Louis glances out at the crowd and finds them still cheering.

“Hey, look. Your fans are still here,” Louis whispers. “They haven’t revolted or started throwing tomatoes because you’re gay.”

“Hmm. Strange. I guess they haven’t,” Harry jokes back. “They seem to still love me. Someone very wise once told me that they would. I didn’t believe him at the time.”

Louis didn’t think Harry listened to a word he said that night. Clearly he was wrong and a few important things got through that beautiful thick skull of his. “That person always believed in you and he still loves you too,” Louis says.

Harry smiles so big that his eyes crinkle up and close before he rests their foreheads together. “Does that mean you’ll stay?” Harry takes a deep breath when he stands up straight.

Louis was set to go back to his old life and spend forever trying to forget everything about this job, the wonderful people he met, and the amazingly brave man currently holding his breath in front of him like he’s afraid to release it.

“Of course I’m staying. You just serenaded me and kissed me in front of the whole fucking world,” he laughs. “Where else would I go?”

That’s all Harry needs to hear before he leans in to kiss him again, and that all Louis needs to feel to know that he’s right where he should be.

***


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of people wanted to know what happened with evil Chelsea, and coincidentally so did I :)

One month later

 

“Stay still. You keep ruining my masterpiece,” Lou tutts as she grabs Louis’ chin to position his head back into place and away from the door.

“Sorry. I thought it was time,” he laughs.

“Well, it’s not,” she says, her face pure concentration as she resumes combing his hair back and away from his clean-shaven face. Louis tries to peek around her to the mirror so he can see what exactly she’s doing but she pops him on the nose and takes hold of his chin again so he can’t move. “ _Stay still_ ,” she orders. “God, you’re worse than Harry.”

Louis is trying, but he can’t help it. He’s just so excited.

“Are you sure I look alright?” he asks for what has to be the millionth time tonight.

“You look amazing. Your bum has never looked better. You should put it in designer slacks more often,” Lou smirks.

“Do you think he’ll like my hair this way? It’s not too much?” Louis breaks out of her hold for a quick peek at the mirror to see the magical quiff she’s crafted. Louis thinks it looks pretty cool, but he could always be wrong.

“He’s going to love it so stop worrying. And stop touching it!” She slaps his hand away and fixes him with a look that says she’ll break it if he fucks anything up. Louis doesn’t even get to try because right when he lifts his hand again a soft knocking sound comes from right behind him.

This time Louis’ ears aren’t playing tricks on him when he glances in that direction and sees Harry’s manager tapping her foot where she’s standing just outside the studio door.

“He’s here and waiting outside and we’re on a tight schedule, so,” Chelsea says in lieu of an actual greeting.

“I guess it’s finally time,” Louis smiles up at his friend and personal glam-guru for the night. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it. Everything’s going to be wonderful,” she assures him. “Take lots of pictures of famous people for me. The higher the quality the closer to God.”

“ _Harry’s_ a celebrity. I could just send you high-quality snapchats of him all night,” Louis points out, just to make Lou roll her eyes.

“Spare me. And I mean a celebrity whom I _haven’t_ witnessed puking up jello-shots.”

Louis laughs and promises to do his best before hugging her and thanking her for everything including letting him borrow her for the evening. He gets to the door and Chelsea’s eyes do a quick scan of him and his sleek suit.

“Are you ready?” she asks, glancing down at the time again like it’ll move at her will if she looks at it enough.

“Yep!” Louis grins. “I’m all dolled up and ready to go. Now I just need the hot date on my arm to complete the ensemble.”

He doesn’t get a laugh though it’s not like he really expected one. He doesn’t receive as much harsh glowering as he used to from her, but laughing at Louis’ dumb jokes is probably taking it a step too far.

“This way,” is all she says, leading the way down the corridor he walked down earlier when Harry dropped him off here a few hours ago to get red carpet ready.

There’s a car waiting outside for him just like Chelsea said. His stomach flips just knowing Harry’s all dressed up and waiting inside of it. He tugs at his jacket and the open collar of his shirt again before taking a deep breath. He pushes through the glass door of the salon that Lou hijacked from a friend for the evening, but he only gets a few steps away before an unexpected voice pipes up from behind him.

“Wardrobe did well. They picked a nice suit.”

Louis frowns wondering if he really just heard her say that or if he’s so full of himself that his brain is spitting out random compliments for the hell of it.

“Er- Wow,” Louis blinks at her when he turns around. This is new. And fucking weird. “Thank you, Chelsea,” Louis says, the words sounding foreign and again, fucking _weird_ coming out of his mouth in that particular order. “I’m glad you approve.”

Her eyes flicker just the slightest bit and Louis figures out that _approval_  wasn’t quite the word he was looking for, but it was close.

“You’re going to be late,” is all she says in response.

He doesn’t get a goodbye or even a 'have a good night' before she turns away from the door and walks back the way she came. Louis continues on to the car, wondering if he looks as shell-shocked as he feels when he climbs into the back seat and Harry frowns.

“What happened?” Harry asks in a restrained voice. “What did she just say to you? I specifically told her that if she said _anything_ even slightly out of line to you-”

“No, Haz. She didn’t. She didn’t say anything rude,” Louis says. “She actually said something _nice_.” Or as nice as someone like Chelsea can probably manage at one time.

Harry looks just as astonished as Louis feels. “Oh my God,” he breathes.

“I know. I kind of got chills. It was crazy.” Maybe the world is ending tonight. It would make sense. “She said my suit looks good.”

Harry grins, taking a moment to look him over from head to toe. “Well, her saying that isn’t so surprising then because you look _incredible_ , babe.” Apparently even good enough to make hell freeze over.

Louis feels his cheeks warm from the way Harry is looking at him when the car pulls off. He readjusts his collar, clearing his throat so that he doesn’t seem quite so overwhelmed from having all of Harry’s attention.

“Well, I only cleaned up this nice to compliment you and how amazing you look. I didn’t want to embarrass Harry Styles by standing next to him in an _un_ tailored suit,” he teases. “The fashion critics would have my head.”

“Nobody’s going to be looking at me tonight. That’s for sure,” Harry chuckles. “And nothing you could ever do would embarrass me, love. I can’t wait to have you at my side all night.” Louis can’t wait either. He figured Harry would attend this awards show alone like all the other events he’s been going to now that his tour is over. He couldn’t believe it the night that Harry asked him to be his date.

“So, did you get to work on your speech today like you wanted?” 

He's been worried about that speech for days, claiming it isn't quite right. 

“I did,” Harry beams. “I finally figured out what was missing; _you,_ Louis. My incredible, handsome, loving, spectacular boyfriend and best friend who’s always believed in me and encouraged me to be my best self. I wrote it down just a few minutes ago.”

Louis rolls his eyes hoping to distract Harry from the fact that he is _killing_ him. If he wins and reads that in front of everybody Louis’ going to cry and it won’t be pretty. “You know, sometimes I think you say things just to see how badly you can fuck me up," he accuses. 

Harry laughs, his arms wrapping around his waist to pull him closer so they’re side by side. Harry kisses him, only doing further damage to Louis' sanity and willpower when he bites down on Louis’ bottom lip and whispers that he’s right.

He fucking knew it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm having SO much fun writing this. Thanks to Louisgirl93 for such a great request and to FallingLikeThis (Zayniam) for all the help.  
> Thanks for reading if you are :) 
> 
> I'd also like to mention the fact that I've been on ao3 for years now and my tagging has not improved. I'm aware. Bear with me, friends.


End file.
